Sons Of The Eagle Soaring Figures From America S Past

129997

De Soto scourged them with his intolerant eye, and not one dared dissent

*

Sons of the Eagle

Roaring figures from

&
^Americas jPast

BY GEORGE CREEL

Illustrated fy Herbert Morton Stoops

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY

Indianapolis 'Publishers

Printed In the United States of America

To

Mr CHILBBEK
FRANCES VIRGINIA AND GEORGE BATES CREEL

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I A WORLD SLIPPED THROUGH His FINGERS . 1
Hernando De Soto

II BANISHED FROM BOSTON 13

Eoger Williams

III THE MAN WHO DREAMED Too SOON . , . 25

Nathaniel Bacon

IV Too GREAT FOR RANSOM 37

Daniel Boone

V His WORDS WERE FLAMES 50

Patrick Henry

VT THE UNHAPPY WARRIOR 63

George Washington

VII THE "BRAT" WHO CLIMBED TO THE STARS * 79
Alexander Hamilton

VIII HOUND OF THE HEATHEN 91

Stephen Decatur

IX THE PATH OF EMPIRE ....... 102

Lewis and Clark

X THE BELOVED GENIUS 114

Robert Fulton

XI OLD HICKORY * . , 126

Andrew Jackson

XII THE SHINING SWORD 138

Simon Bolivar

XIII THE PLAYBOY OP THE PLAINS 150

Sam Houston

CONTENT S Continued

CHAPTER PAGE

XIV "OLD ROUGH AND BEADY" 163

Zachary Taylor

XV THE GREAT GENTLEMAN 174

Winfield Scott

XVI A ROCKET IN THE WEST 187

John Charles Fremont

XVII INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON 200

XVIII THE PROMISED LAND 212

Joseph Smith and Brigham Young

XIX NANCY HANKS' BOY ........ 225

Abraham Lincoln

XX THE MAN WHO CAME BACK 236

Ulysses S. Grant

XXI THE GRAY GHOST OF THE SOUTH .... 251
Nathan Bedford Forrest

XXII EOYAL BABES IN THE WOOD 265

Ferdinand Maximilian

XXIII THE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE 276

Andrew Johnson

XXIV To THE LAST MAN 288

George Ouster

XXV A WESTERN NAPOLEON 299

Ben Holliday

XXVI THE SCANDALS OP 1876 311

Butherford B. Hayes

SONS OF THE EAGLE

SONS OF THE EAGLE

A WOBLD SLIPPED THBOTJGH HIS FINGEBS

No BOMANCER, giving imagination full rein, ever
dreamed adventures half so mad as the actual deeds of
those Spaniards who sailed the uncharted ocean in
their flimsy caravels, stormed the walls of the New
World and waded through blood to fabulous riches
that they diced away in a night. As cruel as brave,
as treacherous as heroic, as religious as depraved,
prattling prayers the loudest when outraging God the
most amazing figures as tremendous and incredible
as though they stepped out of the Apocalypse.

Cortes burning his ships and advancing against the
might of Montezuma with a scant four hundred men ;
Pizarro conquering Peru with less than two hundred;
Pedro de Valdivia enslaving Chili with one hundred
and fifty; eighty-four-year-old Francisco de Carbajal
leading forlorn hopes what a list it is that beat
against the gates of memory with their sword hilts !

It is with Hernando de Soto, however, that this
story has to do De Soto, the real discoverer of
America, We see him first as he leaves his mountain
home in Estremadura, a lad not taller than his sword,
seeking his fortune in Panama with Pedrarias Davila
who cut off Balboa *s head, and in the fifteen years that
follow we catch vivid glimpses of him as he races
through Hispaniola and Nicaragua pursuing fortune.

[1]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Well did he hold his own among those swarming ad-
venturers, for when Pizarro prepares his blow at
Peru we find young Hernando in high command and
rated as the company's "best lance and finest horse-
man/*

It was in the eleventh month of the invasion that
the Spaniards came to Caxamalca, where camped the
Inca and Ms army. A deserted city, emptied of its
people, rang hollowly to the clang of their horses'
feet, but as far as eye could see the valley slopes were
white with the tents of the Indian host. Even the
stoutest heart felt a creeping chill, for what chance
had two hundred against these countless thousands?
At last they understood why the Peruvian monarch
had not opposed their march from the sea coast, taking
no advantage of mountain passes where a tumbled
boulder could have swept them all to death. This
valley, with its prison walls, was his trap.

All through the night Pizarro and De Soto up-
braided and exhorted. "Were cavaliers to turn tail
before these heathen dogs? Could they not see that
retreat was an invitation to disaster? When had they
ever fought except against overwhelming odds ? What
of repeated proofs that God had them in His holy
care and keeping? In every great battle had there not
been sight of St. Michael high above them, crying his
angels to the assault? Was there not ample assur-
ance of the land's incalculable wealth? Forward,
caballeros! Another sword stroke and every man
might plunge his arms shoulder-deep in yellow gold
and emeralds.

Before the morning sun topped the peaks of the
Andes, De Soto was spurring across the plain to face
the Inca and learn his will. With gay arrogance and
a certain shrewd intent to strike fear, he sank his

[2]

A WORLD SLIPPED THROUGH HIS FINGERS

rowels deep and galloped down the warrior line at
furious speed, throwing his charger back upon its
haunches only at the very hem of the royal robe. Not
by the twitch of a muscle did the dusky ruler betray
awe or astonishment, and it was in cold, implacable
tones that he dismissed De Soto, saying that he would
visit the Spaniards on the following day, and then
acquaint them with his pleasure.

"By St Jago !" cried Pizarro. "G-od is delivering
him into our hands. " A cheer burst from every hairy
throat, for some of the men had been with Cortes in
Mexico, and all held in mind how the Great Captain
had seized Montezuma as a hostage. All night long
there were feverish preparations, assignment of sta-
tions and much furbishing of arms, and at mass in the
early dawn, Exsurge Domino was roared to heaven
as a challenge. From their concealment these human
tigers watched the Inca enter the city, and eyes flamed
as they marked the jewels that incrusted his litter, and
saw the throne of solid gold.

All unsuspecting for how could lie dream that
this beggarly handful would dare aggression?
Atahuallpa came to his doom. As he reached the great
central square, with less than seven thousand of his
men inside the gates, a cannon boomed its signal, and
out from hiding poured De Soto and the cavalry.
Picked soldiers ringed the Inca about with steel at
once, and the others rode their horses back and forth
through the huddled, screaming mass, stabbing and
slashing like devils from hell* When arms fell slack
at last from sheer exhaustion five thousand Peruvian
bodies littered the plaza.

There is not space to tell of the ransom brought in
by countless pack trains, Atahuallpa filled one room
;mth. gold and another with silver the value of the

[3]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

whole has been estimated at fifteen millions and still
they kept him prisoner. Evading,, delaying, for his
dark heart meant murder from the first, Pizarro fell
finally into well-simulated rage, and charged the Inca
with plotting against their lives.

Only De Soto held to faith, A fast friendship had
sprung up between him and the royal captive, and
affection joined with honor to make him cry out
against this shameless treachery. Biding off to
Huanachuco to secure proof of the Inca's innocence,
he was not well away before a mock trial sentenced
Atahuallpa to be burned at the stake. As the unhappy
ruler accepted baptism at the last moment, however,
the garrote was substituted for fire, and he was only
strangled.

De Soto, returning, went white with fury, branding
it as assassination, crying that his honor had been
stained. "But what," he sneered, " could a Pizarro,
base-born and wet-nursed by a sow, know of honor V 9

Forcible intervention prevented bloodshed, but De
Soto was all for leaving the country, and only greed
cooled his hot anger. There was still imperial Cuzco
to sack, and even as he led the vanguard on the long
and bloody march, so was he foremost in gutting the
Temple of the Sun and stripping the royal tombs
where mummies sat in chairs of gold and dripped
jewels as summer eaves drip rain. Then, rich with his
share of the spoils, he flung a contemptuous farewell
in Pizarro J s face and sailed for Spain.

Small wonder that Seville adored him. Only
thirty-three rich, handsome and a figure of ro-
mance the beautiful Isabella de Bobadilla gave him
her heart and hand, and the highest fawned upon him
in his palace. For eighteen years he had fought and
suffered, and now, in every softness of love and ease,

[4]

A WORLD SLIPPED THROUGH HIS FINGERS

he would forget the swamps of Haiti and the bitter
hardships of Peru. Vain resolve, for how could bull
fights and pompous ceremonials satisfy one who had
shod his warhorse with silver, hunted slaves with
hounds, gulped chicha from golden goblets as he rode
to the loot of ancient cities, and had seen the Indies
glow?

Ambition burned him ! Cortes, no better born and
not more brave, had lorded it in Mexico, and as for
Pizarro> De Soto ? s proud soul sickened at the thought
of having played second fiddle to that vulgar foundling.
What he dreamed of, what his heart panted for, was
some virgin realm that he might make his own.
Florida, discovered but not won, occurred to him, and
when he offered to undertake the conquest at his own
expense, the thrifty emperor not only named him
captain-general, but also thjew in an appointment as
governor of Cuba.

As the news flew that Don Hernando was taking to
the sea again, sailing to a fair land where the very
trees dropped gems, cavaliers raced to Seville from
every quarter, even Portugal furnishing a contingent
of swart hidalgos.

Out of the thousands that offered, De Soto picked
six hundred "men of courage and condition" and
ten ships were bought and double rationed. Even so,
still another year was spent in Havana that no detail
of the expedition might be overlooked. It was in May,
1539, that the fleet put to sea for the passage of the
Gulf, and as the little army landed in Tampa Bay and
caught the fragrance of jasmine and magnolia, a great
cheer broke from every lip.

* Now at last was America's threshold to be crossed.
Not once, in any voyage, did Columbus touch the great
continent that stretched before him; John Cabot came

[5]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

to Labrador in 1497, but explored no further, and a
year later Ms son, Sebastian, skirted the coast from
Nova Scotia to the Chesapeake without attempt to
pierce the forest walls ; Vasquez de Ayllon and his men
were massacred within sight of their ships ; Ponce de
Leon fell in a beach fight and the atrocities of Panfilo
de Narvaez earned him death almost before he had
touched the interior; Jacques Cartier found the St.
Lawrence in 1534, but seventy years were to pass ere
Champlain carried on. For Hernando De Soto was
reserved the honor of genuine entry and true dis-
covery.

Well was he entitled to curse the fate that sent
Ayllon and Narvaez before him, for memory of their
abominable cruelties made every Indian an implacable
foe. Nor were they sheep-like Peruvians nor yet be-
fuddled Aztecs with their legend of a Fair God, but
fierce tribes as deadly as swamp snakes, fully conscious
that white men were not divinities, but human beings
with blood that a knife could spill. From the great
trees, screened in dripping moss, came flights of bone-
tipped arrows, and woe to the cavalier who laid aside
his armor for a moment.

At first De Soto's luck seemed due to hold, for
from the swamps crawled Juan Ortiz, a survivor of
the Narvaez expedition, able to act as interpreter by
reason of his twelve years of captivity. Repeatedly,
vehemently, he told them that there was no gold in the
land, but Indian prisoners, with cunning intent to lure
the Spaniards on, invented tales of a mythical Chisca,
where the people wore hats of the precious metal.

Inflamed by these lies, the company plunged for-
ward into the dark forests that rang to cries of "Come
on, robbers and traitors! Death is waiting for you."
The bearers tried to brain them with their chains, or

[6]

A WORLD SLIPPED THROUGH HIS FINGERS

else killed themselves, so that the hunt for new beasts
of burden became part of a bloody routine.

Marching through Florida and Georgia, another
May brought them to the banks of the Savannah,
where ruled a princess, young, beautiful and friendly;
and the Gentleman of Elvas, chronicler of the
expedition, writes glowingly of fairy valleys thick with
fruit of tree and vine, the winds only stirring to shake
fragrance from the flowers. "All wanted to stay in
this sweet country," he moans, "but Soto, as it was
his object to find another treasure like that of
Atahuallpa, Lord of Peru, would not be content with
good lands. " And, too, records the Gentleman, he
was "an inflexible man, dry of word, and after he had
expressed his will did not like to be opposed. "

Grateful the shade of the mulberry groves and
soft the arms of the Indian maidens, but with visions
of treasure vaults ever before his eyes, De Soto
scourged the company on through the Carolinas,
Tennessee and south again into Alabama, kingdom of
Tuscaloosa, the Black Warrior. The swarthy ruler
was seized as he held out his hand in friendly greet-
ing, but this habitual treachery was not followed by
the usual tame submission. Maubila, Tuscaloosa 's
capital, was secretly ordered to prepare a plan of ex-
termination, and ten thousand fighting men gathered
against the day when the hated invaders should
arrive.

Only a blunder saved the Spaniards. Before the
trap was well set, an exultant chief shouted an insult
at Balthasar Gallegos, and the fierce cavalier sounded
the battle cry even as he split the savage from hair to
chin. For nine hours the struggle raged, so furiously
that Do Soto fought standing in his stirrups, not hav-
ing time to draw an arrow from his thigh. Successive

[7]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

waves of red men swept over the little company, but
St. Jago rode the heavens on a white horse, calling
encouragement, and as the sun fell from sight victory
perched on the banners of Spain. The flimsy huts, set
on fire, turned the village into a furnace, and men,
women and children perished in the flames or were
spitted on the lances of the blood-mad companeros.

Victory indeed, but at what a cost! Many of De
Soto's bravest and best lay dead, the living were sore
wounded, and the flight of the bearers had not only
lost them clothes, supplies, medicines and booty, but
worst of all, even their dice and playing cards. At
this dark hour came a messenger with word that the
ships were in Pensacola Bay. That way lay safety
and comfort, the ease and dignity of his command in
Cuba where the Lady Isabella waited in all her young
loveliness, while northern marches held hardship,
danger and the daily threat of death. To return, how-
ever, was to admit defeat, and facing away from the
sea, De Soto set forth on another hunt for golden
Chisca.

A man! Cortes cajoled and befooled his mutineers ;
Pizarro lied and intrigued, but here was one who ruled
his lawless spirits by sheer force of character. Alone
with them in a trackless wilderness, without gold and
jewels to end their bitter disappointments, he lashed
them to obedience as though he sat in Seville with
the king's might at his back, not one daring to mutter
as he scourged them with hi bold, intolerant eye.
" Presume not upon any rank you may possess," he
told them, standing slim and graceful as Ms drawn
blade, "for I will take the head of him who does not
do his duty."

No matter how fast they marched, tidings of
Maubila went ahead and every defile was an ambush;

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A WORLD SLIPPED THROUGH HIS FINGERS

Indians dropped from trees to engage in a death
grapple or slipped from the underbrush to rip a
horse's belly; game fled at the noise of fighting and
berries and persimmons were their food.

It was a tattered, famished band thai went into
winter qnarters on the upper Yazoo, but to their
credit, they did not cringe under misfortune. What
time they were not plundering the Indian villages of
maize and women, they tore down idols and preached
the beauties of the Christian faith. The Chickasaws,
reinforced by neighboring tribes, were finally strong
enough to strike, and on a wild March night the
Spaniards woke to find their huts in flames, and as
they dashed forth into the storm, half -armed, half-
naked, flint-tipped darts struck them down.

4 'But God," boasts the Gentleman of Elvas, "who
chastiseth His own as He pleases, and in the greatest
wants and perils hath them in His hand, shut the eyes
of the Indians," The riderless horses, plunging every-
where in mad panic, were thought to carry cavaliers,
and the Chickasaws fled before them. Everything that
had been saved from Maubila was lost in this last
disaster, but reverses seemed only to tap new wells
of courage in De Soto. Eude forges re-tempered
swords, steel stirrups were beaten into lance heads
and ash trees gave new shafts ; shields were made from
hides, clothes from skins and grasses, a vision of the
Holy Virgin strengthened their hearts, and April saw
them marching across Mississippi, bearing always to
the north,

Balboa waved back his men that he alone might
have first view of the Pacific, but the Gentleman of
Elvas makes DO mention of the emotion that De Soto
must have felt when he came to the banks of the
Father of Waters and beheld that mighty flood. To

[9]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

the weary Gentleman, at least, it was merely another
river to cross. The useless slave chains were beaten
into bolts and rude ferries were built, but dawning
hope died quickly when they saw the poverty-stricken
Indian villages on the other shore. Captives, how-
ever, repeated the lie of gold to the north, and off they
staggered, wading waist deep in cypress swamps,
wasted by fevers and harried by savages whose
pirogues skimmed the sullen pools like water
moccasins.

Swift forays netted prisoners now and then, and
with hands and ears cut off, the bleeding wretches
were sent ahead as the white man's heralds. What-
ever De Soto's own despair as the bitter days went
by, no man was privileged to see a lowering of that
proud crest nor was his hand less heavy and assured.

"What now!" he reproached his grumbling
soldiers when they dared at last to talk of home.
"Having it in your power to become lords in a vast
and noble land, do you prefer Spain and the lives of
base dependents ? No one shall leave this country until
we have conquered it." Gone now were his dreams of
gold and gems, and in this challenge to his men there
is evidence that he was beginning to see that the
wealth of the New World was in its broad streams
and fertile soil. If so, it was a vision that came too
late.

Swinging through southern Missouri and eastern
Oklahoma, De Soto pitched his winter camp on the
banks of the Arkansas near Fort Smith. Several rest-
ful months repaired the ravages of the ghastly inarch
in some degree. "Humped-backed cows," as they
called the buffalo, gave them ample food and skins
for covering. But even the Iron Captain realized the
impossibility of further wandering. Of the proud

[10]

A WORLD SLIPPED THROUGH HIS FINGERS

array that had set forth with him from Havana three
years before, less than half remained, and these were
worn and wasted.

Eeturn was compulsory. Strangely enough, almost
at the same time a similar tragedy was working to its
grim conclusion farther north, for Francisco Vasquez
de Coronado, starting from Mexico, had gone as far as
Nebraska in his vain search for the Seven Cities of
Cibola.

Beaching the Mississippi once again, after a terri-
ble journey, De Soto felt himself sickening to his
death, "Deep was his despondency," writes the
Gentleman of Elvas, and who shall say that there was
not excuse for his despair? "What of his wife, stripped
of fortune to finance this mad venture? And the
shamo of failure, for in Ms following there was none
with enough vision and faith to make the emperor see
that this land of mighty forests, shining rivers and
fertile plains was a possession more to be prized than
all the gold of Mexico and Peru! Death held no
terrors for him he had faced it daily from his youth
but how the sense of defeat must have weighed down
that proud heart !

"When he knew the end to be at hand De Soto called
his men together and, out of his knowledge of their
fierce, contentious natures, named Luis Moscoso as
his successor; then, swearing all to obedience and
thanking them for their loyalty, he pulled the skin
coverlet over his face and died, old and worn at forty-
two. Five slaves, threo horses and some swine com-
posed the estate of this man who but nine years before
had sailed from Peru with a fortune in gold and silver
bars, precious metals curiously carved and great,
gleaming emeralds.

They buried him at night that the Indians might

[11]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

not know Ms grave, but the keen eyes of the bearers
marked the fresh-turned earth, and when darkness fell
again, Moscoso had the body carried down to the
Mississippi's edge. Working by touch, not daring to
show a light, they took a huge tree trunk, half hollowed
by native boat builders, and packed the gaunt body in
soft skins. Sealing the whole as best they could, a
push gave it to the current, and the wind in the trees
joined with their sobs for requiem.

An epic of lost opportunity! Had Hernando de
Soto come of a race that loved the soil, he could have
changed the history of the New World, for all of the
rich sweep of America was in his grasp to have and
to hold. It was the tragedy of Spain, however, that
her hawk-faced adventurer* saw wealth only in gold
and silver, and scorned to plough except with swords.

[12]

n

BAJSISHED FBOM BOSTON"

CAMBBIDGB creaked beneath, an unaccustomed
height, for people had come from all the towns of the
Massachusetts Bay Colony to attend the trial of Eoger
[Williams. Beyond the settlement stretched the New
England forests, yet the wilderness did not liold man
pr beast more savage than the Puritans who crowded
"Parson Hooker's rude church to give their hate a
holiday* There is no cruelty like the cruelty of con-
scious goodness, and these harsh, curdled souls were
sublimely confident that they alone possessed God's
confidence and favor.

Governor Haynes and the deputies sat stiff and
straight, frowning with every appearance of authority,
1)ut not a man in the pews but knew them to be puppets.
Behind the court were the real rulers the nine
ministers of the colony leaning forward as if to
spring upon this vile heretic who had dared assail the
Lord's anointed.

Terrible, blasphemous, were the things the de-
Cendant had said and done.

From his pulpit he had preached that church and
tate should stand separate ; he had denied the power
of magistrates to control the consciences of men, in-
sisting that every human being was entitled to worship
God in his own way; he had claimed the right of free
'speech, and he had attacked his fellow ministers, de-

[13]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

claring that intolerance could have no place in the
hearts of those who professed to follow Christ.

Nor was this all. Many a time he had been heard
to say that the Indians were the true owners of the
land; that no title was good unless it had been ob-
tained honestly from the Indians, and that there was
no greater lie than that "Christian kings, so called, are
invested with a right, by virtue of their Christianity,
to take and give away the lands of other men.' 7 His
conviction was a foregone conclusion ; the only specula-
tion was as to the punishment. "Would he be whipped
until he stood in a pool of his own blood, or would he
be sent into the wilderness to perish? Both were
favorite sentences with the Puritans.

It never ceases to be strange that the same mother-
land could spawn two such different breeds. The
Pilgrims, who came over on the Mayflower, were a
bleak, ascetic lot, but innately just. They had suffered
exile in Holland for their faith and were come to the
New World to escape oppression, not to become
oppressors in their turn ; and from the first, Plymouth
Colony was truly a refuge for all men distressed of
conscience.

The Puritans, who followed nine years later, were
those lacking in the martyrs' faith that sent their
fellows to Holland, and even while leaving England
finally because they hated the Established Church,
fawned upon this very church as they sailed, denying
any thought of separating from it. Perhaps it was
a sense of contemptibility that made them so cruel;
maybe their savage intolerances were meant to wipe
out the memory of their mean truckling.

Settling Massachusetts Bay, building the towns of
Salem and Boston, they founded an ecclesiastical
autocracy and called on all men to fall on their knees

[14]

BANISHED FROM BOSTON

before it under pain of dire penalties. There was no
state, only a church using civil authority to enforce its
decrees. The Pentateuch became the law; men and
women were imprisoned and whipped for imprudent
speech, faults in dress or failure to attend divine
worship, and those daring to hold offensive opinions
were hanged or banished.

No settler was a citizen unless he belonged to the
church, yet all had to support the church. Freedom
there was none, for as John Cotton plainly stated, "a
democratical government is unfit for either church or
state, for if the people are governors, who are the
governed? "

Roger "Williams was not a man to succeed in such
a community, for he had already paid a high price for
freedom of conscience. A poor "Welsh lad, his bril-
liance attracted the attention of Sir Edward Coke
that great Coke who was the father of English juris-
prudence and in this home of wealth and power he
was loved and educated as a son. Turning away from
the law, where easy fame awaited his remarkable
talents, he entered the church, only to find his spirit
stifled by dogma and ritual, and in final revolt against
the tyrannies of Laud, he set sail for the New World
with his young wife

Boston stunned him. The brutal intolerance
shocked his fairness, the cruelties wounded his loving
heart, and his honor was shamed to see the Puritans
wheedle favors from the King by pretending to re-
main faithful to the Church of England even while
setting up a brand-new religion of their own.

When they offered him a pulpit he answered in
words that dripped contempt, bringing down upon his
head a fury of wrath that drove him out of Boston and
denied Mm the right to preach in Salem. Only

[15]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Plymouth home of the Pilgrims held out open arms,
and there on Sundays he expounded his doctrines of
love and justice, earning his bread by day labor.
Aftet two years Salem gained courage to call this
" godly man/' but barely had he answered than power-
ful Boston, hot with the old rage, ordered his arrest.

So we come to the historic days of October, 1635,
when Williams faced his accusers in the little log
meeting house in Cambridge. Historic indeed, for the
issues at stake were free speech, the right of conscience
and religious tolerance, and on the shoulders of that
prisoner rested the hopes of unborn millions.

We do not even know what he looked like this
Eoger Williams who fought for America's soul three
hundred years ago. He must have been tall and strong
and straight, for he bore incredible hardships; un-
doubtedly there was beauty in his clear eyes, for loving
gentleness shone through, and he must have been dear
and attractive in every aspect, for all men of open
minds adored him.

He did not deny any of the accusations hurled at
him, but repeated his words and upheld them, assert-
ing again and again that the children of earth were
entitled "to walk as their consciences persuade them,
every one in the name of his God." For this faith he
was ready to be bound or banished or to die. Their
faces forbidding as the wintry evening sky outside, the
court ruled that "Roger Williams hath broached and
dyvulged dyvers new and dangerous opinions," and
an order of banishment was entered against him. Cry
your message to the wolves, infidel !

Time was first allowed him to order his affairs, but
on second thought the Puritans deemed it unwise to
let him remain in the country, "lest the infection of
Ms opinions spread," and a force was secretly des-

[16]

BANISHED FROM BOSTON

patched to seize him and put him on board a boat for
England. Some friendly voice sent a warning ahead,
and when the party reached Williams ' home, they
found only his wife and babes. He himself had slipped
into the wilderness with his cloak and staff and wallet
of parched corn, and "was tossed for fourteen weeks
in a bitter winter season, not knowing what board or
bread did mean."

From the day of his coming to the colony Roger
Williams 5 heart had gone out to the unhappy Indians,
robbed of their land, oppressed and abused. While
in Plymouth he had lived in wigwams with the savages,
learned their tongues and won the faith and friendship
of Massasoit, sachem of the Wampanoags, and Canon-
icus, great chief of the Narragansetts. Now was the
value of true Christianity to be proved, for as the
homeless wanderer staggered out of the forest, more
dead than alive, old Caaonicus took Tirm to his heart
and bade him rest.

A piece of land on the Seekonfc was given him, and
with the coming of spring Williams was joined by five
other banished men.

Even as they put in their crops, however, word
cam that the territory was claimed by the Bay Colony,
and again the exile was forced to flee. Across the
river Canonicus rowed this well-beloved friend, and,
pointing to a smiling stretch of woods and meadow,
said, "This is mine. I give it to you."

Here, high above the shining waters, Edger
Williams laid the foundations of Providence, and
dedicated this first Rhode Island settlement to be a
shelter for the oppressed of earth. Instead of keeping
the land as a personal possession, he put aside large
tracts for future arrivals, divided his own holdings
equally among his company, now twelve, and drew up

[17]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

simple articles of government tliat gave the law
authority "only in civil things."

All this while Boston was stewing in its own hates.
Shortly after the banishment of Williams, a Mistress
Anne Hutchinson had arrived in the Bay Colony, and
lost little time in overturning all accepted ideas of
woman's place. A brilliant, vivid creature, she lifted
the banner of equal rights, and not only raised her
voice in public places but soon differed radically with
the divines on fundamental points of doctrine. Preach-
ing in her own home, Mistress Anne was eloquent
enough, and perhaps charming enough, to win quite a
following, and by the time the court got down to die
business of discipline, the poison had spread to a
degree where many orders of banishment had to be
issued.

"Where were these unhappy souls to turn? In their
despair they journeyed to Providence, and although
in the number were those who had been his foremost
persecutors, Eoger "Williams took them to his great,
warm heart and made them welcome. Canonicus
viewed the newcomers with cold eyes, but Williams
pleaded in the name of their friendship, and at last
the old sachem sold them an island in Narragansett
Bay where they built the towns of Portsmouth and
Newport.

Larger and larger grew the exodus from intolerant
Boston, and but for Williams' charity he must have
laughed at the sight of Governor Haynes and Parson
Hooker toiling through the wilderness to Connecticut,
unable to stomach the iron rule of John Cotton and
Ms fellow bigots.

Now came an end to Indian meekness and sub-
mission.^ The fierce Pequods flamed into open war,
and Chief Sassacus, resolving upon a campaign of

[18]

BANISHED FEOM BOSTON

extermination, sent Ms orators to the New England
tribes, proposing an alliance that should end forever
the rule of the white man. There was but one to whom
the Bay Colonies could look for aid in this black hour,
nor did the memory of their hate and persecution hold
them back from frantic appeal.

"Help us," they cried to Eoger "Williams. "Help
us or we perish."

What a chance it was to have been human! But
had Eoger Williams walked with Christ from Bethle-
hem to Calvary, his heart could not have been less
free from all uncharitableness. Wrapping his worn
coat about him, he put out into the stormy waters in
his rude canoe, and rowed to where old Canonicus sat
pondering his decision.

"Three days and tljree nights," records Williams,
"my business forced me to lodge and mis with the
bloody Pequod ambassadors whose hands and arms
reeked with the blood of my countrymen, murdered by
them on the Connecticut Eiver, and from whom I could
not but nightly look for their knives at my own
throat." Not only did he succeed in having the
Pequods turned away, but he brought the Narragan-
setts and Mohegans into an alliance with the whites.

Throughout the war that followed he held these
Indian allies in line; persuaded other tribes to neutral-
ity, drew maps of the Pequod country, and was the
great tower of strength. Yet even while he wanted
his brethren saved, with all his soul he hoped for a
peace of justice that would end strife and bloodshed.

Strange indeed that he persisted in any illusion
regarding the Puritans. In a surprise attack that
ended the war, they butchered seven hundred Pequod
warriors and then cut off the hands and ears and
scalps of their victims to send back to godly Boston

[19]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

for the delight of its Christian people. As a further
gentle touch, the young of the tribes were divided
among the people as slaves, even ministers clamoring
for their share of strong boys and growing girls.
Anguished, horrified, Williams cried his protest, but
now he had no more favors to bestow, and his voice
was ineffectual.

Nor was the sentence of banishment revoked!
Even expenses that he had incurred in their behalf
were left unpaid. grateful Puritans ! Christian
souls I Hating Williams more than ever f or had not
this accursed infidel put them under obligations!
the Boston Colony formed an offensive and defensive
alliance with Plymouth, Connecticut and New Haven,
and imposed the condition that the Providence settle-
ment should b kept outside. The French, threatened
from Canada, there were the Hudson River Dutch to
be feared; the Indians, now supplied with rum and
firearms, were liable to take the war-path at any time,
and against these menaces Williams was to be forced
to stand alone.

Even this did not satisfy the ferocious temper of
the Puritans, and in addition to forbidding com-
mercial intercourse with the Providence settlement
bribes were used to create strife and disaffection. As
a last resort, Williams resolved to go to England and
beg protection against this league of hate*

Boston's port was closed to him, for he was still
an outlaw, and he had to take boat from New York, the
Dutch receiving the famous peacemaker with glad
arms. As a result of Governor Kieft's incredible
treachery, the Long Island Indians were killing and
burning poor Anne Hutchinson was one of those
cruelly butchered near Pelham and Williams did
much in the way of pacification.

[20]

BANISHED FROM BOSTON

England was commencing to seethe with civil war
in 1643. Already Charles I had taken the field in a
vain attempt to regain power, and the Long Parlia-
ment ruled in London. "With the charm that never
failed to move men of any sensibility, Williams won
the trust and affection of Cromwell, Milton, Lord
Saye and Sele, Pym, and many another, and with these
powerful endorsements obtained a charter that gave
"the Providence Plantations in Narragansett Bay full
power to rule themselves as they shall by free consent
agree to," Even so, it was a triumph of personality
rather than a victory for tolerance, since bigotry ruled
England no less than Boston.

Having rid themselves of one Established Church,
the Eoundheads were at work to create another, the
difference being the substitution of Presbyterianism
for Prelacy. A man of Williams' faith and tempera-
ment could not stand idle while such a thing was under
way, and we find him pleading with Parliament for the
entire separation of church and state, vainly arguing
the impossibility of establishing any form of religion
without doing violence to men's consciences. And his
tenderness of heart found time to organize a system
for bringing firewood to London so that the poor
might not freeze to death.

On Ms return he landed at Boston, walking safely
through those scowling faces by virtue of a Parlia-
mentary order. For the next six years we see him
working to organize his colonies under the new charter,
but blocked at every turn by the sly, hateful machina-
tions of the Puritans, bribes, intrigue, outrageous
territorial claims backed by threats of armed force,
bringing an answer from Williams that will not lose
its truth as long as time lasts. "What are all the
contentions and wars of this world about generally,"

[21]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

he asked, "but for greater dishes and bowls of
porridge?"

He talked to deaf ears. Among other things, the
Puritans proclaimed that no member of "Williams'
colonies might set foot in Massachusetts, and when
three Rhode Island Baptists slipped into Lynn to
visit a sick friend, they were arrested, tried for
"abominable heresies" and sentenced to be whipped.
Parson "Wilson dear, gentle soul was so carried
away by Christian emotion that he struck the prisoners
and screamed the curse of God upon them.

Among those who banished Eoger Williams, and
afterward crept to him for shelter, was one Codding-
ton. This man, taking advantage of the confusion
created by the Bay Colony's intrigues, hurried to
England in secret, and by gross misrepresentation
obtained a charter that constituted him dictator of
Rhode Island and Connecticut. As a consequence the
colonists swarmed about Williams once again, and in
answer to their entreaties he sold his trading house
now his sole support to get money for the ocean trip.

In England poor King Charles ' empty head had
fallen, Cromwell sat at the head of a council of state,
and John Milton, fast nearing total blindness, was
Secretary of Foreign Tongues. The word of Williams
was sufficient for these men, and with Coddington's
charter revoked, and the Providence Plantations con-
firmed in their rights, Williams stayed on to make
another fight for religious tolerance, doing odd jobs
of tutoring for his bed and board.

Returning to Providence, and elected president by
a reorganized government, he threw the gates wide
and wider, and through them poured Jews from the
Old World, Anabaptists, persecuted sectarians from
every country, and even Quakers.

[22]

BANISHED FROM BOSTON

Here was a test of tolerance, for those early
Quakers were undoubtedly hard to bear. The hatred
that beat upon them produced in many a violent
nervous disorder it was the convulsive twitching and
writhing of several leaders while on trial that earned
the derisive name of Quakers and under the com-
pulsions of this madness, they stopped at nothing.
Women ran naked through the streets to "bear
testimony"; they burst into churches, howling like
wild beasts, and destroyed property and defied every
convention of decency.

The Massachusetts Bay Colony went sick with rage
at their coming. The first Quakeresses were arrested,
stripped and searched for a "devil's teat, 7 ' and when
none was found the wretched women were cast into
prison with the windows boarded up. As more poured
in, sentences increased in severity.

Williams did not like either Quaker practises or
doctrines, but this did not stop him from holding out
loving arms to these poor, unhappy fanatics.

So the years went by the "heretic colony" grow-
ing in strength and esteem, the Massachusetts towns
adding to the hate that men felt for their cruel bigotry.
Harder and harder they bore upon the consciences of
men; more and more arrogant they became in their
treatment of the Indians. In 1675 King Philip, son
.of old Massasoit, resolved that death was preferable
to a life of injury and insult, and led the tribes to
battle* Williams, now white-haired and bent, toiled
heavily to the tents of the Wampanoags, and begged
them to go home, promising redress of grievances.

"Nay," spake the great sachem. "It is idle to
talk of justice from the white man. You are our
father, and not a hair of your head shall be touched,
but woe to all others. "

[23]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Alas, poor Philip ! For a while his star rode high
and bright a thousand palefaces perished under his
tomahawk but defeat, desertion and betrayal finally
combined to send his bleeding head to Boston.
Wampanoags, Narragansetts and Pokanokets were
wiped from the face of the New World, their warriors
dead, their children shipped to slavery in the Indies,
some even to the vile marts of Morocco. Again Eoger
Williams knew the bitterness of death, for it was the
end of his dream of red men brought to Christ by love
and fair dealing.

Bruised in heart by these and many other
uglinesses, he died in 1684 in the seventy-seventh
year of his age a poor man, stripped of acres and
possessions by his public services and manifold
charities. One blessing came to brighten before the
end; compelled by popular sentiment, the sixth and
last New England synod met in 1680 and decreed
liberty of conscience, declaring those very truths for
which Roger Williams had been banished in 1635, The
Puritan soul was not entirely emptied of the poison of
hate Cotton Mather was yet to burn feeble old men
and women for suspicion of witchcraft but the battle
for free speech and religious tolerance was won

In the end we see none other than Cotton Mather
preaching the ordination sermon of the minister of the
First Baptist Church of Boston, solemnly denouncing
the spirit of persecution. Yet to this day Roger
Williams stands as an outlaw in Massachusetts, the
decree of banishment never having been revoked.

[24]

Ill

THE MAN WHO DEEAMED TOO SOOIS"

SPKISTG came early to Virginia in this year of 1676.
Already the orchards were stained with pink, fish
leaped in the James, and from every field drifted the
crooning of slaves as they turned the mellow earth for
a new harvest.

A sweet landscape, yet its peace found small re-
flection in the faces of the men that grouped under the
great tulip trees and listened to Nathaniel Bacon's
fiery eloquence. Swiftly, passionately, he had told of
Indian raids that turned the frontier counties into a
slaughter pen three hundred men, women and little
ones butchered within the month and he was now
asking volunteers that these horrors might be ended.
Even as the mud-stained riders shouted their approval,
hailing "him as leader, an elderly man, plainly of the
merchant class, stepped forward with upraised hand.

"A moment, gentlemen, I pray you, 77 he pleaded.
"The shame of these things cries to God, and my own
heart flames at every fresh report of homes burned
and whole families killed and scalped. But is it well,
is it wise, to take the law into our own hands and defy
established authority? Mr. Bacon has made clear our
grievances, and they are heavy, but what he has not
made clear is that until Governor Berkeley gives the
word, any man who proceeds against the bloody
heathen people will stand branded as a rebel.' 7

"And why is it so?" Bacon's voice had the blare

[25]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

of a trumpet. "Sir William and his favorites have the
monopoly of the fur trade, and the Indians may
murder as they please so long as they send in beaver
pelts. 'Fore God, I know not whether to laugh or
cry. Here stand men who came to this New World
that they might live in honor, peace and fairness, yet
we are caught in the same old greeds and oppressions/'

"Be good enough to remember that I have never
approved Sir William, ' ' the merchant answered hotly.
"Even now I am ready to petition the King for his
removal. "

"The Bang!" It was William Drummond that
spoke, the Drummond who had been governor of the
Carolinas until honesty earned his removal. "I retch
at the very mention of his name. That bawdy prince
with his concubines and spaniels! Giving America
away to lewd companions that find him new courtesans,
and grinding us to pay the bills for his vices and
debaucheries. A fine one to petition against a venal
governor ! ' '

Many stirred uneasily at this bold treason, but the
truth of Drummond ? s bitter words forbade protest.
It was not only that Charles II had laid burdensome
taxes and throttled American commerce by harsh
laws ; between love songs and wantonings he had tossed
away whole colonies as though they were copper in,
his purse. All south of Virginia was given to eight
favorites headed by the Duke of Albemarle, while to
the Duke of York he handed the whole of the vast
domain lying between the Connecticut and the Hud-
son, no whit bothered that ten thousand Connecticut
settlers held a royal charter, and that the Dutch
occupied New Netherlands by right of discovery.
Crowning liberality had been the gift of "all the
domain of land and water called Virginia" to his fel~

[26]

THE MAN WHO DREAMED TOO SOON

low debauches, Lord Culpepper and the Earl of
Arlington.

Here was black ingratitude piled high, upon in-
justice. New England had reason to fear the Restora-
tion, for she sent men to fight with Cromwell, and it
was a Massachusetts parson that preached Charles
the First's death sermon. Virginia, however, fiercely
royalist, had held unfalteringly to the Stuart cause,
and was the one refuge for Prince Rupert's flying
cavaliers.

"Like master like man," jeered Richard Lawrence,
the Oxford scholar. "Sir William has traded honor
for avarice, and all know it. His taxes bleed us white,
yet in the whole colony there is not a road nor a school-
house. For fifteen years he has held the same
assembly, denying an election, and he and his parasites
grow rich by open thievery. And now we may not
take arms against the savages that lay Virginia waste,
because, forsooth, Sir William profits from their fur
trade. What does it matter that every pelt is wet
with blood, that every gold piece represents a human
life? An end to words, gentlemen! I, for one, am
with Nat Bacon, win or lose, live or die."

A mighty shout went up, and ere darkness fell a
gallant company was riding through the somber forest
aisles, young Bacon at its head. In such manner do
we first meet the proud heart that bade England high
defiance a full one hundred years before the colonies
summoned courage to fight for independence, and who
might well have been the father of his country but for
1;he accident of a fever that struck him down in his
high hour. Brilliantly gifted, a natural captain, and
burning with the passionate humanity that set fire to
the souls of duller men, it was Nathaniel Bacon's un-
happy fate to perish as his dream took shape and

[27]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

form, and the hangman >s noose doomed his devoted
followers to the obscurity that waits on failure.

Never was one less the figure of an agitator. Rich
and high-born, with the blood of the great Francis
Bacon in his veins, owning two plantations, a member
of the Council, his wife the daughter of a nobleman,
every tie of self-interest bound him to the ruling class.
Yet from his first coming to the colony he had shown
an uncomfortable quality of honesty, a biting con-
tempt for greed and corruption, giving Governor
Berkeley various occasions to regret that he had
honored him. There had been disposition, however,
to ascribe this love of truth and justice to mere excess
of youth, but now that he was hitching action to his
words, black anger took the place of irritation.

His sour face more curdled than its wont, Sir
"William branded Bacon as a rebel, associated with
"diverse rude, dissolute and tumultuous persons to
incite mutiny," and proclaimed intention to pursue,
"not doubting but God Almighty, who hath commanded
obedience to authority, will give me success/ 5 Nor
were the reforms urged by Drummond and Lawrence
less irritating to him. "I thank God there are no free
schools nor printing in Virginia/' he declared, "and
I hope we shall not have them these three hundred
years. For learning has brought heresy and dis-
obedience and sects into the world, and printing has
divulged them."

A whirlwind of popular wrath soon blew the
arrogant old man from his high horse* For fifteen
years the great body of colonists had moekly endured
his tyrannies, former bondmen remembering and
yeomen still holding to Old World servitudes ; but now
a leader had risen young, fearless, headlong and
best of all, with a dark, romantic beauty that met

[28]

THE MAN WHO DREAMED TOO SOON

every dramatic demand. Creeping back to Jamestown
in fear of Ms life, the Governor not only swallowed
his boasts, but went so far in humility as to dissolve
the House of Burgesses and order a new election.

Meanwhile Bacon had come to grips with the
Indians, and in swift succession crushed the Susque-
hannocks, the Oconogees and the Manakins, the scat-
tered remnants flying in terror before this Dark Chief
who struck by night and day, neither eating nor sleep-
ing in the fury of his pursuit. Four thousand pounds
of powder, direct from the Governor's stores, were
captured in one stronghold, and it was with this plain
evidence of betrayal that young Nathaniel returned to
the settlements. Here he learned that he had been
elected to the new House, and that there was much
speculation as to whether he would dare to take his
seat* Dare? It was a word that never failed to gall
Ms reckless courage, and boarding Ms sloop, he sailed
down to Jamestown with head high and banners flying.

Like all despots when brought to bay, the Governor
alternated between rage and caution. In his first
white heat he clapped Bacon into prison, but when the
people roared their anger, he turned the trial into a
triumph and graciously promised the long-sought
commission. Verily, as one Burwell wrote, "We can
do no less than wonder at the mutable and imperma-
nent deportments of that blind goddess, Fortune. In
the morning before the trial he was, in Ms enemy's
hopes and friends ' fears, judged for to receive the
guerdon of a Bebell, and ere night crowned the darling
of the people's hope and desires as the only man fitt
in Virginia to put a stop to the bloody resolution of
the heathen."

There was that in the Governor's bilious eye that
boded ill, however, and between night and morning

[29]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

Bacon slipped away to the Middle Plantations, and,
returning with a company at Ms back, demanded his
commission at the sword's point.

"Here and now!" he cried. "Damn my blood, I
am sick of delay. " His hot masterful face was not to
be denied, but when the document came it contained
no admission of loyalty. Sir William, shrill with rage,
swore that he would cut off his right hand before mak-
ing any such change, but Bacon's men, marching
before the open windows with cocked muskets, brought
the burgesses to a different way of thinking.

The agitator well away, hunting the heathen again,
Sir "William rushed off to rich Gloucester County, "best
replenished for men, arms and affection, 7 ' and de-
manded support for a proclamation of outlawry. The
proposal was "much disrelished, " for, while the
aristocratic planters were entirely willing to uphold
the Governor, their honor shrank from stabbing Bacon
in the back even as he fought the common enemy. Sir
William, not to be denied, branded the young leader as
a rebel without much ado, and this news, reaching the
little army in the Pamunkey, brought bitter answer
from Bacon. "Behold their gratitude !" he cried.
"While I am hunting the wolves and tigers that
destroy our land, I myself am to be pursued as a
savage. 7 '

Beturning to the Middle Plantations to face the
charge, his course was clear. He could go cap in hand
to the Governor, make an oasy peace and resume the
favor of that wealthy uncle whoso heir he was. His
orchards were in bloom, delightful contrast to the hard-
ships of swamp and forest, and a young wife and two
baby daughters caught at his lonely heart with their
tender hands. Only his conscience forbade. He had
slept in the cabins of the humble and seen the wretched-

[30]

THE MAN WHO DREAMED TOO SOON

ness worked by corrupt power; he had sat by camp-
fires and heard the despair of involuntary poverty, and
his whole soul revolted against those scurvy knaves
who were betraying the bright promise of the New
.World.

Potent voices were at his ear those of Lawrence
and Drummond, that Scotch dreamer who felt oppres-
sion as a wound. But revolution was a thing to ponder,
for what more certain than that Charles would send
soldiers and still more soldiers? Now spoke up Sarah
Drummond, gaunt, dauntless wife of "William, for it
was a day when women were truly helpmates, standing
shoulder with men in the conquest of the forest. Into
their faces she threw bold words that had the sting of
stones. What was life without liberty, honor and
self-respect? Yet were all lost, and their hopes and
brave dreams, did they lay down arms and crawl back
to beg an amnesty*

"See!" she cried, picking a stick from the ground
and snapping it between her strong, browned fingers.
"I fear the power of England no more than a broken
twig. The child that is unborn shall have cause to
rejoice for the good that will come by the rising of the
country. J '

Not only had Charles 7 debaucheries bred bitter
domestic discontent, but might it not be that help could
be gained from the other colonies ?

The Puritans of New England hated the Stuarts,
and even then a royal agent was preparing to destroy
the charter of Massachusetts ; Goffe and Whalley, the
two regicides, might be expected to come from hiding
and lead an army of revolt; the Dutch and Swedes
of New York and New Jersey were restive under
English rule ; there was bitterness in Maryland, where
Protestants resented the proprietorship of Catholic

[31]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Lord Baltimore ; and the Carolinas were on fire with
anger against the extortions of noble masters.

So the die was cast. Calling the men of the Middle
Plantations into convention, Bacon demanded not only
allegiance not only armed action against Sir William
in event of civil war but that all should take oath to
resist the troops of England should they be sent.

Here was rebellion and of the boldest; at last,
after more than seventy years men found the spirit to
throw off old humilities and recognize the New World
as their own. Even as he marched away, however,
Bacon added to the gloomy fears of the properties
class by issuing a manifesto that defined the revolu-
tion as both economic and political.

Arraigning " sponges that have suckt up the
publique treasury " and " unworthy favourites and
juggling parasites," he declared boldly that "all
power and sway is gott in the hands of the rich," and
proclaimed an end to evil conditions that poured
poison into the wells of human aspiration. Had men
fled from the oppressions of Europe only to endure
them in America? In a virgin land, uncursed by tradi-
tion, were they to perpetuate the smothering supersti*
tions of caste and class?

Nothing is new. Even as the manifestoes of
modern reform groups stand as somewhat faded
copies of Bacon's fiery appeals, so were they, in turn,
sonorous echoes from the agitations of the Gracchi.
Yet they came fresh to the ears of the time, and though
propertied men might shrink and pale, the hearts of
humble folk leaped to the call.

Sir William, panic stricken by the tumult, fled
across the Chesapeake to the shelter of English ships,
and Bacon hailed it as an abdication. Sending Brtim-
mond and Lawrence to Jamestown to assume civil

[32]

TEE MAN WHO DREAMED TOO SOON

power, at the same time he seized a sloop and des-
patched Giles Bland and roystering Captain Carver in
pursuit of the Governor.

" Juice of the grape" led Carver into a trap, and
in September Sir William came before Jamestown
roaring drunk in anticipation of revenge. Seventeen
vessels were under his command, together with one
thousand masterless men recruited by promise of the
rebels' homes and land, and Lawrence, seeing the
futility of resistance, evacuated at once. Bacon, hav-
ing carried another Indian campaign to a successful
conclusion, had let the majority of his men scatter to
their homes, and it was with less than one hundred and
fifty soldiers that he marched to the recapture of
Jamestown.

On his way, with a shrewdness that must have come
from Sarah Drummond, he collected the wives of the
planters who were with Berkeley, and these he used
as a shield while earthworks were being dug. His
guns silenced, his ships helpless, the raging Sir "Will-
iam resolved upon a charge, but his thousand wastrels
had not bargained upon hand-to-hand fighting, and
the knives and yells of Bacon's Indian fighters sent
them flying. Pellmell, devil take the hindmost, their
wild retreat carried Sir William with it, and once
again he found his creaking bones rattled by the rough
waters of the Bay.

Bacon's triumph was short-lived. Almost on the
instant came word that Giles Brent, once a rebel, had
gone over to the Governor, and was hurrying to the
rescue with a large force from Potomack. Not only
this, but Sir William *s ships and men were still at
hand, and after one gloomy look about Trim Bacon
ordered torches to be lighted. Drummond and Law-
rence set fire to their homes with their own hands, and

[33]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

as the little army marched into the wilderness, flames
consumed the first English settlement in America.

What now? Brent's desertion showed the changed
temper of the propertied classes, for while men of
substance might view Berkeley's corruptions with dis-
taste, Bacon's program of reform appealed to them
as anarchistic. Gone, too, was the dream of help from
the other colonies. Maryland was now at peace, its
religious strife composed by wise concessions, and the
men of the Carolinas could not be made to see the
value of united effort. The Dutch and Swedes of New
York and Jersey cared not who ruled them as long
as they held their land* As for aid from New England,
the idea had been preposterous from the first, for the
Puritan had only hatred and distrust for those not
of his own harsh faith. The cavaliers of Virginia
were held in no less loathing than were the Quakers.

Bruised heart and soul by the mean cautions of
those about him, and barred by his youth from the
philosophy that accepts selfishness as inseparable
from human concerns, Bacon struck out like a wounded
animal, plundering the estates of those that fought
against him, and breathing threats of court martials
and summary executions. Smug Gloucester particu-
larly enraged him, and there ho marched, harrying
on the way, and called the " sober and discreet"
gentlemen of the county before him to choose between
Virginia and the King. Send for the High Sheriffs !
He would hold an election, name men in love with
liberty, and make a new state and new laws! God
had meant His children to be free, and this New World
was divinely indicated as a refuge from tyranny, a
haven in which men might stand erect and seo the
stars. Enough of these scrofulous princes with their
greeds and vicious impudencies !

[34]

THE MAN WHO DREAMED TOO SOON

To the great relief of the timorous conservatives,
now came a messenger with word that Giles Brent and
his array were at hand, and Bacon, always eager to
translate his passion into action, led his sadly dwindled
army to the battle field. But battle there was none.
Brent's following, mercenaries for the most part, or
else small landowners with a growing appreciation of
the revolution's intent, refused to abide the clash of
arms, either turning tail or joining "the champion of
the people. "

Now was there a return of confidence, a blessed
feeling that men saw and understood. In this fresh
hope Bacon set out for Accomack, determined to cor-
ner Sir William as he would a fox, ending once and
for all this ceaseless intrigue that confused people's
minds. Had he known it, even then the King was turn-
ing away from Nell Gwynne for a moment in order to
take action against "persons of mean and desperate
fortunes" who were inciting his "loving subjects" in
Virginia to riot and disorder. A price of three hun-
dred pounds was put on Bacon's head, and Captain
Herbert Jeffreys despatched with troops to crush the
base rebellion.

There was not need. For six months Bacon had
known only hardship and fierce endeavor, all given
sword edge by exhausting passions. On the morning
of October eleventh he sickened of a fever or a flux,
and by night he was dead. No dying words have come
down to us. Doubtless there were none, for what had
he to say? Home, wife, children, fortune, future all
these he had offered on the altar of liberty, and the
winds of chance had blown the altar bare. So perished
the First American.

The revolution died with Bacon. Lawrence and
Drummond were without his flame, and the rebels

[35]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

chose one Ingram, a rope dancer, as their leader.
When he sold them out, soon afterward, Sir William
was left free to loose his hate. Drummond, captured
in the swamps of Chickahominy, was hung within the
hour by the gleeful Governor, and Sarah and her chil-
dren sent into the wilderness to test the miracle of
Elijah and his ravens. Edmund Cheesman's young
wife begged to take his place on the scaffold, since she
had urged him to rebellion, and was driven from the
room with a foul epithet. Only Lawrence escaped,
through the snows to Carolina. When Sir John Berry
and Captain Jeffreys arrived in January, 1677, bring-
ing the first English troops to touch American soil,
twenty gallant gentlemen had gone to feed Sir
William's grudge.

"As I live," cursed King Charles when told the
news, "the old fool hath taken more lives in that naked
country than I have taken for the murder of my
father."

[86]

IV

TOO GREAT FOR EANSOH

EDWARD BRADDOCK, as brave as asinine,
was come to drive the accursed French out of America,
and Fort Cumberland flashed with the color of
marching redcoats, colonial buff and blue, hairy men
in buckskin and blanketed Indians riotous with paint
and eagle feathers.

To a certain gaping woodsman, leaning on his long
rifle, it seemed that the whole of creation was gathered
in the one spot, and the boyish face fell into forlorn
lines. v

" Looking for any one?" A stalwart young Vir-
ginia major stopped his horse and looked down with
kindly eyes, for he himself was of the forest breed.

"No one in particular, " a soft drawl answered. "I
come up from the Yadkin to get a chance at the
fighting that's all. My name's Dan'l Boone."

"Mine is "Washington George "Washington. As
for fighting" here he flushed as if at some angry
memory "I don't know about that. General Brad-
dock has a mighty poor opinion of us colonials.
However" letting his swift glance rake the narrow
street, he beckoned to a tall broad-shouldered youth.
"Here's a North Carolina recruit for you, Dan
Morgan. Good-by, Friend Boone, and take good care
of that rifle. British regulars may find it useful yet."

"What's lie mean?" asked Boone, following his
new friend "Don't they like us?"

[37]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

"We're dirt under their feet," rasped Morgan.
"We don't drill an' our boots ain't polished. All of
'em think this is a sort of dress parade. After they
take Fort Duquesne, they'll capture Niagara, Fronte-
nac an' Crown Point, an' then have an hour left to
get ready for supper. Major Washington's the only
man that can even talk to General Braddock, an ? he
ain't listened to."

As the weary march began at last, many a camp-
fire must have warmed the friendship of these three
Washington, Boone and Daniel Morgan for all were
trained woodsmen, similar in temperament and experi-
ence. Knowing Indians and forest warfare as they
knew the back of their hands, how they must have
groaned as they watched the doomed Braddoek blunder
forward, his line four miles long and cluttered up with
carriages, soft beds and table delicacies. Only
resolute when wrong, the stubborn General sneered at
the suggestion of using scouts, and alienated the
Indian allies by his arrogance and contempt. What
more simple than the defeat of a few hundred French
and some beggarly savages, all that Marquis Duquesne
had been able to send down from Canada?

So dawned the soft, sunshiny morning of July 9,
1755. After three dawdling months, the scattered,
straggling army was within ten miles of the fort that
guarded the junction of the Alleghany and Mononga-
hela. Washington, racked with fever and barely able
to back his horse, urged caution, warning of a possible
ambush, but was laughed at for his pains. Even as
Braddock and his titled officers yawned in anticipation
of an easy victory, a bedlam of war cries broke the
peace of the forest, and from every thicket poured a
fire that laid the British ranks in red windrows.
Gallant Beaujeau, with two hundred French and seven

[38]

TOO GREAT FOR RANSOM

hundred Indians, had set a trap and Braddock was
well caught.

The colonials, falling flat, fought from tree and
rock with cool valor, bnt the dazed regulars, huddled in
platoons, were shot down almost without resistance.
Sir Peter Halkett and many another officer fell a
bullet gave Braddock his death wound panic spread
and the British veterans, " flying like sheep before the
hounds/ 9 sent back aimless volleys that put the
colonials between two fires. Twice was Washington's
horse shot from under him four bullets pierced his
coat, but he kept retreat from turning into a massacre,
and led a remnant from the bloody field.

Four days later the young Virginian read the
funeral service over ill-fated Braddock, making a
grave in the open road that wagon tracks might hide
it from the savages. A British defeat but an American
victory, for that ghastly rout forever ended the super-
stition that British redcoats were invincible.

It is against this stirring background that we are
introduced to Daniel Boone, a tremendous figure as
important as picturesque. Usually dismissed as a
mere backwoodsman, he deserves to live in our hearts
as the American Moses, for it was not until he blazed
trails through the wilderness that the people of the
New World thrilled to the realization of a continent
all their own.

Let it be remembered that, for a hundred and fifty
years after Jamestown and Plymouth, the colonies
remained essentially European, eyes on England and
ears cocked to catch the whisper of kings. Even when
the population had grown to a million, they huddled
along the Atlantic seaboard like sheep in a pen, un-
willing to leave the ocean that was their touch with
the Old World.

[39]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

The "warrior path" of the Iroquois, deep and
broad, ran from Albany to the Ohio, giving New
England and New York direct access to the riches of
the West, but no white man followed it, all clinging to
the sterile coast with the tenacity of limpets. Only
when the story of Boone's colorful exploits flew from
settlement to settlement were the colonists moved to
throw off the bondage of habit and shake free of old
fears and ancient submissions.

At every point in his adventurous life, packed with
danger, this moccasined pathfinder is seen to have
shaped great events with his gnarled hands, molding
the destiny of a nation. It was not only that he lifted
the souls of men above humility; had it not been for
his courage and vision, the Revolution might have
ended with England laying claim to the whole trans-
AUeghany region by right of undisturbed possession.

After the Braddock disaster Boone went back to
his home on the Yadkin, disgusted with British arro-
gance and incompetence.

And still there was no peace. Inflamed by brutal
treacheries, the Cherokees and allied tribes ravaged
the western borders of Virginia arid the Carolinas,
driving the Scotch-Irish back to the coast. Again in
1763, the flaming Pontiac led Senecas, Mingoes, Dela-
wares, Shawnees, Miamis, Wyandottos and Ottawas
against the white men, only Detroit and Fort Pitt
withstanding the fury of the savages.

Now indeed was expansion a word that rested on
no man's tongue. The brave plans of the Ohio com-
pany fell to nothing and the various other trans-
Alleghany grants became mere paper. New England
colonies hugged the seacoast with renewed fervor;
Albany and Fort Pitt were the outposts of New York
and Pennsylvania; Virginia and the Carolinas had

[40]

TOO GREAT FOR RANSOM

their fill of pioneering; and the colony left by Ogle-
thorpe in Georgia lived timidly under the protection
of Indian treaties. Moreover a royal proclamation
established imperial control over all of the vast terri-
tory lying west of the Appalachian divide, exempting
it from settlement and setting every charter right
aside.

Only Daniel Boone dared to dream. As a child he
had helped his family cut a way from Pennsylvania
to North Carolina, and on the wild banks of the
Tadkin the woods and streams had been his books.
He could race the forest aisles without breaking a
twig, dive with the beaver, hit the bull's eye from in-
credible distances, catch fish with a horse-hair, and
outwait and outwit any brave that crept the thickets
in full war paint.

Solitude drew him, and as he trapped and hunted,
broiling his venison over coals in some safe covert, a
feeling grew that God called from the mountain tops,
bidding him cross over and blaze trails that a people
might follow. Born of Quaker stock, the savage life
of the woods led Boone far from that gentle faith, yet
never did he lose his kinship with the stars, the serene
conviction that the Lord walked with him, pointing the
way for his feet.

While with Braddock he had made friends with
one Finley, a trapper whose vagrant wanderings had
carried him into far places, and Kentucky became a
name that held curious fascination. Night after night
Finley told of great forests swarming with every kind
of game from buffalo to bear a vast hunting ground
held in common by the Shawnees, Delawares and
Wyandottes of the North, and the Creeks, Cherokees
and Choctaws of the South and it was a vision that
had never left the young woodsman. Kentucky I

[41]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

There was the Land of Promise where men could win
free from this odious business of truckling to a distant
king.

Many and various were Boone 's early adventures
in pioneering. Crossing the mountains into those
valleys where, racing streams gather to form the
Tennessee, Boone made the bold explorations that
pointed the way to future settlements by Robertson
and Sevier. Another year he went south, traveling
as far as Pensacola, and a later journey carried him
across the whole of Tennessee to the banks of the
Mississippi. But still Kentucky called.

At last resolving to make the attempt, he set out
alone, as was his habit, but the way was badly chosen
and impenetrable cane brakes sent him back to the
Tadkin in deep discouragement. Soon after his re-
turn, by a queer trick of chance, gay irresponsible
Finley came to Boone ? s door with a peddler's pack,
and stayed long as a welcome guest. As a result of
the winter's talk, the Great Journey was decided upon,
Boone going deeply into debt for ammunition and
supplies, and on May 1, 1769, a party of six set out
for the conquest of Kentucky.

Mounting the Blue Eidge, they swung sharply to
the right, and penetrating mighty Cumberland Gap,
came out into a "warrior path" hard beaten by count-
less years of Indian travel. Game abounded, the earth
shook to the tread of great herds of buffalo, elk and
deer, while the streams were thick with mink and
beaver ; but there were also redskins in large numbers.

The constant peril sent four men back, and in
December, Boone and his one remaining companion
had a narrow escape from a Shawnee torture stake.
Even as they pondered their wretched condition for
the savages had stripped them bare Squire Boone

[42]

TOO GREAT FOR RANSOM

and one McNeely rode out of the forest, loaded down
with ammunition and supplies. Five hundred miles
of trackless forest had they traveled, aided only by
faintest signs truly a feat of woodcraft well worthy
of Daniel himself. Trapping was resumed with new
energy, but one day Stuart disappeared as though the
earth had opened, and McNeely, losing heart, set out
for home, never to be heard of afterward. Only the
two brothers were left, and in May it was decided that
Squire should go back alone to market the furs and
buy ammunition.

Daniel stayed behind "without bread, salt or sugar,
horse or dog," even lacking powder and bullets for his
rifle. Forest fruits and roots together with such small
animals as he was able to snare, furnished his food
and, with Indians all about him, he made his bed in the
heart of the densest thickets, risking a fire only at
rare intervals.

Innumerable were his hairbreadth escapes. Even
so, he recorded it as the happiest time in his life, for
at last he was face to face with his purpose alone
with the God that had chosen him as "an instrument
for settling the wilderness." With growing apprecia-
tion of the land's loveliness, Boone now proceeded to
explore Kentucky from border to border, charting it
as calmly as though he did not stand in daily peril of
his life.

Boone came again to Kentucky the following year
and picked a site for the settlement that he was deter-
mined to found, if only with his own family. By the
time of his return, however, the colonies were ringing
with the story of his daring, and even London street
boys hawked blood-and-thunder pamphlets reciting
his adventures.

In September, 1773, therefore, when he set out for

[43]

SONS OF TEE

Kentucky with Ms wife and eight children, some forty
others were bold enough to follow Mm. Unhappily, a
Shawnee war party fell upon them before they reached
Cumberland Gap, killing Boone's sixteen-year-old son
among others, and not all his pleading could induce
the company to go forward. The bitterness of death
was in his heart, but even as he planned to plunge
forward with Becky and the children, great events
burst into action.

Throughout all this time, King George's ministers
had been goading America to rebellion by every con-
ceivable stupidity, and, feeling revolution in the air,
Lord Dunmore, the crafty Governor of Virginia, set
deliberately to work to inflame the savages against the
colonists. His agents, slaughtering the entire family
of Chief Logan, contrived to put the blame on Captain
Cressap and his Americans, and again the border
knew the horrors of Indian warfare as Mingoes, Shaw-
nees and Cherokees collected the scalps of revenge.

Boone's rifle and Boone's woodcraft were vital to
the colonial cause, and he was drawn away from his
dreams of Kentucky to beat back the red tide that
swept over every outlying farm and beat against the
very stockades of forts and towns. The defeat of
Chief Cornstalk forced the Indians into sullen peace,
and shortly afterward, one Colonel Richard Hender-
son, a North Carolina lawyer, came to Boone with a
plan, bold as ingenious a great plan, not uninspired
by the ideals of William Penn, of a state beyond the
mountains to be called Transylvania.

Leaping into the scheme wholeheartedly, Boone
sent peace tokens from village to village, and the day
dawned when one thousand two hundred Cherokees
were gathered in a forest glade to effect a land bar-
gain. A small amount of cash and a few wagonloads

[44]

TOO GREAT FOR RA]j$QM

of gewgaws made up the price, and the wise chiefs
smiled, for they knew how little they had to sell, As
one said to Boone, "It is a dark and bloody ground
that you will have trouble settling."

Daniel at last was being given opportunity to make
his dream come true. Selecting thirty trained men
and famous Indian fighters, he set out once again on
the now familiar trail, but this time he built a road
the greatest highway since Watling Street the Wild-
erness Eoad that was to lead America to the West,

On April 1, 1775, little more than a fortnight before
the shots at Concord, he stopped his march on the
Kentucky River and founded Boonesborough. Fight-
ing there was fierce fighting for the Indians were
quick to recognize the signs of permanent settlement,
and it was not until September that Boone was able
to go back for his family.

Bitter were the little settlement's beginnings
every day a struggle for life. General Henry Hamil-
ton, "the hair buyer," ruled the West from his head-
quarters in Detroit, and always he drove his Indians
and half-breeds against the colonies that disputed
England's ownership of the trans-Alleghany region.

There were times when discouragement reduced
the population of the settlement to a mere handful, but
Boone only locked his grip the tighter. Volumes could
be filled with tales of his daring and cool courage
long, lonely expeditions to save a family or meet new
settlers; many captivities (once he thrust his bare
arms into a bed of coals that he might burn off the
buckskin thongs that bound him) ; the death of beloved
sons and brothers tomahawked before his eyes; shot
down himself, and carried to safety on the back of
Simon Kenton. What a man he was with his incredible
strength, panther-like activity and iron will!

[45]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Meanwhile, when Kentuckians decided that some
aggressive blow must be struck, Major George Eogers
Clark of Harrodsburg got authority and backing from
Governor Patrick Henry and the legislature of Vir-
ginia, and embarked upon a brilliant campaign
culminating, in February, 1779, in the capture of the
British garrison, including General Hamilton himself,
at Vincennes.

What the three had in mind was a swift sudden
attack upon Kaskaskia, Cahokia and Vincennes,
figuring that the British could be taken by sur-
prise, Henry, always in love with the daring and
spectacular, gave the requested commission, and with
Kenton at his side and two hundred moccasined
frontiersmen at his back, Clark set out in the spring
of 1778, as superbly confident as though he led an
army. Floating down the Ohio to a point well this
side of its junction with the Mississippi, he swept
across the prairies and took Kaskaskia on the fourth
of July, then, never stopping, rushed on to the capture
of Cahokia and Vincennes.

Hamilton, receiving the news, came hurrying from
Detroit with his full force, forcing Clark to fall back
from Vincennes, but instead of following up his ad-
vantage, the British general decided to wait until
spring before marching on Kaskaskia. Winter rains
and snows had turned the country into one vast
morass, and inasmuch as he himself shrank from the
bitter hardships of a march, he figured his foe to be
of the same comfortable opinion. Clark's bold eye
instantly caught the flutter of opportunity, and sum-
moning his men from their warm huts, he led them off
on a surprise attack that would not have shamed a
Hannibal.

The prairies were icy lakes and the forests in-

[46]

TOO GEE AT FOE RANSOM

terminable swamps; the gallant little company wal-
lowed rather than walked, and many died from
exposure and exhaustion, but Clark's unwavering en-
thusiasm kept courage alive, and on a bitter morning
the ragamuffin band fell upon unsuspecting Vineennes
like a thunderbolt, capturing Hamilton himself, and
forever ending British rule west of the Alleghanies.
All with two hundred men !

Boone, to his lasting regret, missed sharing in this
conquest of the Northwest, for even as the expedition
formed, he was captured by the Shawnees while boil-
ing salt at Blue Licks.

Wild was the excitement of the savages as they
hurried him back to their Ohio villages, for not one
but knew Boone and feared him, and from far and
near the tribes gathered to decide upon a proper fate.
Knowing the Indians better than they knew them-
selves, Boone cozened the chiefs with his plausible
speech, and actually convinced them that if they would
but wait until spring he would lead them to Boones-
borough and persuade the entire settlement to sur-
render and consent to adoption. "It is winter/ 7 he
argued, "and they can not escape. Nor can they hope
to resist and live, their number is so small."

Taken to Detroit for exhibition, the world-famous
borderman was feted by the garrison, and Hamilton
offered one hundred pounds as his ransom, but the
Indians put Boone far above money. At first it was
merely pride in the possession of so great a man, but
affection soon followed, and Chief Blackfish chose him
as a son.

Boone might well have cursed his fatal charm, for
the ceremony of adoption was far from gentle. As a
first step, all of his hair was torn out by the roots
except a scalp lock, after which he was swished back

[47]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

and forth in the icy river to wash out his white blood.
As a final test, they made him run the gantlet, a merry
test of manhood. Leaping like an antelope, butting
like a goat, and swinging his iron fists like sledges,
Boone gave as good as he got, and when, covered with
blood, he reached the end of the line, half of the young
warriors were senseless on the ground.

Lulling his captors into complete security, the first
warm weather saw Daniel slip away by a clever trick,
nor were their swiftest runners able to overtake him.
Four days he raced through the wilderness without
food and almost without sleep, reaching Boones-
borough far enough in advance of the pursuit to put
the fort in readiness for attack. For nine terrible
days, King Moluntha beat against the stockades a
siege unprecedented in Indian warfare confessing
defeat only when the ground was covered with the
bodies of his bravest. Thus was the West saved to
America. An epic typically American, and with an
ending no less typical. All of Boone 's vast landhold-
ings were taken from him by legal trick and fraud
until not one single acre in the whole of Kentucky
remained his own ; and he was forced to start a general
store in Virginia.

In 1799 there was a resurgence of his pioneer
spirit, and we find him sailing down the Ohio to Mis-
souri, with every stop an ovation as people flocked to
see and cheer the Great Pathfinder. The Spanish
authorities, welcoming the famous newcomer with
open arms, gave him eight hundred and forty acres
in St, Charles County, about forty-five miles from
St. Louis, and also made him a magistrate. His old
age now seemed assured of comfort, but in 1804, when
the Louisiana Purchase was consummated, and Mis-
souri became part of the United States, the inevitable

[48]

TOO GREAT FOR RANSOM

Yankee lawyer picked flaws in Boone's title, and again
Ms land was taken away from Mm. Not until 1811
did Congress find the decency to restore it.

Going back to Ms traps, tlie old man spent long
winters on lonely streams, dodging Indians even as
in Ms youth, and "by 1810 had saved money enough to
clear his honor of what he deemed a stain. Eeturning
to Kentucky, he paid the debts incurred during Ms
various lawsuits. Then, with fifty cents left, he again
turned his weather-beaten face to the Missouri wilder-
ness. To the day of Ms death "a tale of new lands
ever found him a delighted listener, " and when the
last sleep fell upon him in 1820, the wMte-haired youth
of eighty-six was planning a journey to California.

[49]

HIS WORDS WEBE FLAMES

BY THE time Patrick Henry rose to speak Hanover
Courthouse was packed to the doors, and mud stained
planters filled the yard. Many of them had known the
gawky lawyer throughout his boyhood, chiefly spent
in hunting and fishing they had watched him fail
twice as a storekeeper and while there was general
agreement that "Pat would never amount to much,"
all loved him and had warm-hearted interest in this
brave attempt to build up a law practise.

Tall, raw-boned, his sallow face only saved from
mediocrity by a broad brow and brilliant eyes, the
young counsel floundered to his feet, plainly the victim
of a painful nervousness beyond control. There were,
in truth, many things to catch at his throat, for success
meant an end to poverty, a roof for his wife and
babies, the respect of men instead of affectionate
tolerance, the restoration of his own belief in himself,
so sadly shaken by bitter failures*

Words came confusedly, disjointedly his father
dropped his face in his hands to hide grief and humilia-
tion and a wave of sympathetic dismay swept the
courtroom. Poor Pat! Suddenly the tall form
straightened, the voice swelled to richest volume,
awkwardness and embarrassment fell away, and it
was as if the speaker caught fire from some inner
flame. Patrick Henry had found himself, and from

[50]

HIS WORDS WERE FLAMES

that moment until Ms death, the souls of men were Ms
to mold.

The case itself was of rare importance, for it hit
the pocket of every Virginian. From the beginning
of the colony the Church of England had been estab-
lished by law, and the pay of its ministers fixed at so
many pounds of tobacco, a tax that fell on every adult
regardless of Ms faith. Tobacco rising in price and
paper money falling, the House of Burgesses cannily
legislated that the ministers might be paid in currency,
whereupon the outraged dominies carried their pro-
tests to London. The English King, always looking
for chances to assert the royal prerogative, vetoed the
Virginia act, and now jubilant Parson Maury was
seeking a formal court order for the difference in pay.

Impatiently sweeping aside the legal aspects of the
case, Henry aimed his passion at two fundamental
principles the King's right to veto the laws of a
colony, and the fact of an established church. The
monarch's tyrannous abuse of power, he declared, had
dissolved the compact between ruler and people and
forfeited all claim to the obedience of Virginians.

There was majesty in the noble gesture with which
he stilled the cries of " Treason/' and gaunt figures
from the Old Testament seemed to stand at Ms back
as he attacked the evil theory that man might not
worship G-od save as a tyrant ordered.

Well were the conservatives entitled to shout
"Treason," for not since Nathaniel Bacon had any
man ventured to preach rebellion. Here was no wMne
or snarl as to whether such and such a law was good
or bad, but a bold assertion that the making of laws
was the litswess of the colonies, in no wise dependent
iipon the whims of kings. There in old Hanover
' Courthouse, on that gray December day of 1763, the

[51]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

alarm bell of revolution was first rung, and the hand
that jerked it so boldly was never to leave the rope,

Patrick Henry's local fame was instant, and a wave
of popular adoration swept him into the House of
Burgesses. Here he found himself in the presence of
the aristocratic oligarchy that ruled Virginia broad-
cloth gentry with profound contempt for homespun
and it was as if he had been pitch-forked into
Olympus. Edmund Pendleton, Richard Bland, Ben-
jamin Harrison, the Lees and Peyton Bandolph
rich, cultured and educated in England for the most
part sat in the seats of power, august as Roman
senators. G-eorge Washington, more soldier than
orator, looked on in silence from the floor, and young
Thomas Jefferson was oftener in the gallery than at
his law books.

It was now 1765 and events had moved apace.
Pedantic Grenville, determined to bring the colonies
to their knees, limited their currency, tightened every
act designed to crush manufacture and monopolize
trade, and at the last devised stamp duties to leech
new revenues.

Bitter was the outcry, but when the Stamp Act
passed the colonies prepared to accept it, even fiery
James Otis declaring, "It is the duty of all humbly
and silently to acquiesce in all the decisions of the su-
preme legislature/'

Such was the attitude of Virginia, and from his
obscure seat Patrick Henry listened to the spineless
debates humble and unnoticed. If any patrician
tossed a glance in his direction it was to sneer at him
for a backwoods lawyer, rude and unlettered, admitted
to the bar by favor of tolerant examiners. The fact
that he had won his license after only six months of
study might have taught them that Henry's was the

[52]

HIS WORDS WERE FLAMES

genius that Is not called upon to tramp treadmills, and,
had they taken the trouble to think, it might also have
occurred to them that the one great characteristic of
the forest breed is a passion for freedom*

Member after member droned the necessity of
patience and*- submission, and suddenly sickening of
mealy-mouthed phrases, Patrick Henry sprang to his
feet with a set of resolutions scribbled on the back of
a page torn from an old law book. In words that
rang as clarions, the justice of the Stamp Act was
denied, King and Commons were denounced as lawless
and despotic, and the people summoned to resist. Sup-
porting the resolutions with a masterly analysis of
American charters and the British Constitution,
Henry soon left the field of argument, and, plunging
into a discourse on the natural rights of man, ended
with the flaming phrases that every school child learns
to-day; "C&sar had his Brutus, Charles the First his
Cromwell, and Q-eorge the Third " here cries of
"Treason !" shook the House "may profit J}y their
example. If this be treason, make the most of it."

The aristocratic bloc, furious at the presumption
of this homespun upstart, resisted strenuously, but
not only did they lose the fight but also their leader-
ship, for from that moment Patrick Henry dominated
the House.

Modern historians seem determined to make the
American Revolution a mean and sordid thing. Noth-
ing pleases them more than to call John Hancock a
smuggler, to point out Washington's wealth as a
reason for his resentment of taxes, or to repeat the
ugly gossip that James Otis turned patriot because his
father failed to receive a government post.

All emphasis is put upon economic causes, and, as
if in love with mud, men and motives are grimed over

[53]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

with charges of self-interest. Granted that the chief
grievances of the commercial class were burdensome
laws, what had Sugar Bills and Navigation Acts to do
with Patrick Henry and Samuel Adams, the one a
poor Virginia lawyer and the other so careless of gain
that friends had to buy him clothes? Or with the
ragged, starving commoners they drove into rebellion?
Propertied men, for the most part, fled at the first
gun, praying for British victory from their safe refuge
behind the redcoat lines; those who left bloody foot-
prints in the snow at Valley Forge were humble souls.

Had the quarrel between England and America
concerned itself merely with restrictive legislation
compromises would have been effected. Just as the
Stamp Act was repealed, so would tax laws and
revenue measures have been adjusted and amended.

Not only were Pitt, Burke, Camden and Barre at
the head of a vigorous liberal following, but down to
the very Declaration of Independence Washington,
Franklin, Jay, Dickinson and John Adams stood like
iron against a rupture with the mother country. Only
two men landless men thought in terms of freedom,
defeated attempts at reconciliation and thrilled the
hearts of the masses with their own dream of inde-
pendence. Samuel Adams, master agitator, laid the
pile : Patrick Henry struck the match,

Never did two men work in truer unison. "With
a people thrilling to the great Virginian's eloquence,
the shrewd Bostoniaii now took up the work of keeping
discontentment alive. Charles Townshend, that bril-
liant, unstable near-statesman, played directly into his
hands, for not only did he go further than George
Grenville in enforcing the Trade and Navigation Acts
but he had the stupidity to put heavy taxes on a
selected list of commodities.

[54]

HIS WORDS WERE FLAMES

Straightway Adams conceived the idea of a boycott,
and Ms famous circular letter secured the consent of
the colonies to a non-importation and non-consumption
agreement, Americans suffering every privation rather
than buy what England had to sell. The Quartering
Act, compelling the colonists to support the ten thou-
sand soldiers sent to coerce them, and King George's
folly in suspending various legislatures, all furnished
Adams with material for new pamphlets and more
furious agitation.

By now the Massachusetts leader was King
George's favorite nightmare, and Townshend, to save
his royal master from apoplexy, revived an ancient
statute of Henry VIII, and announced an intention to
arrest Adams and bring him back to England for trial
on treason charges. "Whereupon Patrick Henry intro-
duced the Virginia Resolves, branding the proposal
as barbarous, illegal and unconstitutional daring
Townshend to do it and at the same time gravely
pointing out that the power to tax .Americans reposed
only in their own elected assemblies.

Again in 1773, when Adams conceived the idea of
committees of correspondence to bring the towns of
Massachusetts into closer touch, we find Henry's
eloquence driving through a resolution to apply the
idea to the legislatures of the colonies. "Well might
"William Lee write from London that "it struck a
greater panic into the Ministers than anything that
had taken place since the Stamp Act/ 7 From the
beginning English policy had been to keep the colonies
apart, creating and inflaming divisive prejudices.
Now the vision of Adams and Henry had found the way
to weld them. Lord North, succeeding Townshend as
King George's rubber stamp, repealed taxes on every-
thing but tea, maintaining this as an assertion of

[55]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

England's "right" to tax. Adams, seizing the new
opportunity, used it as a lash to whip the flagging
spirit of New England, and the result was the Boston
Tea Party, when three hundred and forty-two chests
of choice bohea were tossed into the harbor.

Lord North's answer was an order closing the port
of Boston, and the answer to Lord North was another
batch of Virginia resolutions that set aside June 1,
1774, as a day of fasting, humiliation and prayer,
together with many furious words against King and
Commons. Lord Dunmore, that lewd old dandy, now
governor, dissolved the House, as had become his
habit, and Patrick Henry, leading his fellow rebels to
the Baleigh Tavern, judged the time ripe to take the
last step in his plan for colonial union. Sweeping the
timid with him, he carried his proposal for an annual
congress "to deliberate on those general measures
which the united interests of America may from time
to time require."

The bold idea captured the colonies, and a Virginia
convention elected Henry, "Washington, Harrison,
Bland, Peyton Randolph, Edmund Pendleton and
Richard Henry Lee as delegates to the first Continental
Congress.

Henry stopped at Mount Vernon for a night with
"Washington and the two rode on to Philadelphia in
company. Totally unlike in training and temperament,
each bore the other in love and admiration, and it
must have hurt them that they could not see eye to eye
in the present crisis.

"Washington, as slow to form judgments as he was
tenacious in holding them, still thought in terms of
petition and remonstrance, relying largely upon Burke
and Pitt and the English Liberals. As a matter of
fact, when the various delegates gathered in Car-

[56]

EI8 WORDS WERE FLAMES

penter's Hall on September fifth, only Patrick Henry
and Samuel Adams were blessed with the vision of
independence. They were friends from the first,
delighted with each other, and even John Adams,
constitutionally unable to speak well of any one but
himself, fell a victim to the tall Virginian's charm.

At the very outset Henry struck a powerful blow
for unity, putting an end to mean sectional wrangling
with this noble declaration: "All America is thrown
into one mass. The distinctions between Virginians,
Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers and New Englanders
are no more. I am not a Virginian but an American.' 9
And when the subtle Galloway came forward with a
plan for continuation of British rule a colonial union
under the control of the King it was Patrick Henry's
eloquence that defeated the cunning scheme.

At the end of the session, however, Adams and
Henry had small cause for enthusiasm Q-allo way's
trick had been defeated by one vote only, and the
temper of Congress was overwhelmingly conserva-
tive but Henry was not downcast. In a conversation
recorded by Colonel John Overton he declared that
war was certain, and prophesied France's aid.

"When Virginia's second revolutionary convention
met at Richmond in the spring of the following year
he set to work to make his prophecy come true. There
in old St. John's Church were the same forces that
stood opposed at Williamsburg in 1765, just ten
years before on one side the patricians, fearful of
precipitate action, and on the other, Patrick Henry and
plain men that he had fired with his love of liberty.

A resolution of hems and haws was proposed, full
of protestations of loyalty to the King. Henry, at-
tacking it as servile and absurd, called for the colony
to put itself immediately into a posture of defense,

[57]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

and moved the organization of a militia. Pendleton
led his conservatives in instant opposition insisting
that it would be "time enough to resort to measures
of despair when every well-founded hope was entirely
vanished," but Henry crushed them in the speech that
has come to be the loved heritage of every American
child. What heart has not thrilled to those tremendous
periods that bade a people put by their fears and mean
servilities?

"We must fight. I repeat it, sir, we must fight. An
appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is
left us. ., . . Shall we gather strength by irresolution
and inaction? . . . There is no retreat but in sub-
mission and slavery. . , . Gentlemen may cry peace,
peace, but there is no peace. , . . Is life so dear, or
peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of
chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know
not what course others may take, but as for me, give
me liberty or give me death*"

Up to this time no man had done more than hint
that war might come unless England did this or that.
Henry's boldness lay in the fact that he swept hesi-
tancies aside and declared that war must come. Nor
was he wanting in deeds to back his words. When
Lord Dunmore raided the public powder magazines
on April twentieth, the very day after Pitcairn fired
upon the farmers at Lexington, Henry took the field
with five thousand volunteers and forced the Governor
to make compensation. His back turned, however,
Dunmore proclaimed him a rebel, and it was with
citizens acting as his armed escort that Henry
journeyed to Philadelphia for the second session of
Congress.

By now his speech was on the tongues and in the
hearts of men. No more was it a matter of taxes, a

[58]

EI8 WORDS WERE FLAMES

lawyer's wrangle about laws, but an overwhelming
desire to be free. On the very day the session opened
Ethan Allen took Ticonderoga "in the name of the
Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress, 3 ' with-
out authority from either, and Massachusetts men
were gathering at Bunker Hill.

Joyously supporting John and Samuel Adams in
their nomination of George "Washington to be com-
mander-in-chief of the colonial forces, and after
serving on every important committee until adjourn-
ment, Henry hurried home to accept the leadership of
Virginia's forces. Having urged war, he felt it a
point of honor to take the field himself, but the laurels
of a soldier were denied him, for Pendleton's clique,
gaining control of the Committee on Safety, ignored
and humiliated him to such a degree that self-respect
compelled Ms resignation.

Yet no injustice had the power to curdle his
patriotism nor bitterness to blur his vision. Back in
the Virginia legislature again, on May 12, 1776, we
find him writing resolutions that ordered Virginia's
congressional delegation to "procure an immediate,
clear and full declaration of independence/' and in
one of the greatest speeches of Ms career, he carried
the proposition without a dissenting vote. Thus in-
structed, Eichard Henry Lee made the motion in
Philadelphia on June seventh, and out of it came the
Declaration of Independence.

And still Henry did not feel that his work was
done. A permanent state government remained to be
formed, and with all Ms soul he was resolved that it
should be an expression of every democratic ideal,
every human longing. Under Ms inspiration, aristo-
cratic George Mason flamed to greatness and produced
the Virginia Bill of Eights, the first written constitu-

[59]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

tion of a free state in the history of the world, and also
the noblest. With a governor to elect, a people's love
expressed itself, and Patrick Henry was swept into
office on a great wave of adoration.

Three years he served years of drudgery and
heartbreak for his terms covered the darkest hours
of the Bevolution, Believing in "Washington as the
one man able to save America, Henry stripped
Virginia to supply the army with men men and
supplies and in letter after letter the harassed com-
mander-in-chief poured out his gratitude. The defeat
on Long Island, the flight from New York, the retreat
through New Jersey, the evacuation of Philadelphia
through all these reverses, Henry's faith never
wavered, and not only did he expose the Conway Cabal,
but hurled his wrath against the plotters who sought
to put the egregious Gates in Washington's place.

At the war's end there is another instance of the
courage and vision that put Patrick Henry beyond any
other leader of his day. All the rage of a war-worn
people was directed against the Tories exile, death,
confiscation, no punishment could be too severe and
it was against this passion of revenge that Henry flung
his eloquence. Crying out against the poison of hate
and pointing to the New World's need of man power,
he turned to the menacing faces about him and ex-
claimed, "Afraid of them? What, sirs, shall we, who
have laid the proud British lion at our feet, now be
afraid of her whelps?"

In the same noble far-seeing spirit he fought the
confiscation of British goods as an injustice that would
kill their hopes of commerce. "Let her, (commerce)
be as free as air," he pleaded-, "she will range the
whole creation and return on the four winds of heaven
to bless the land with plenty."

[60]

HIS WORDS WERE FLAMES

Elected governor again in 1784 for a two-year term
he refused reelection in 1786 in order to make provi-
sion for Ms family. The father of many children [he
had seventeen in all by his two marriages], he had not
charged a fee since 1773, devoting a full thirteen years
to the service of his country.

In 1788, however, he was again forced to quit his
practise to attend a state convention called to pass
upon the new federal Constitution framed the year
before. It was Henry's bitter fight against Virginia's
ratification that lost him the friendship of Washington,
estranged many others who had held him dear and
clouded his fame as far as history is concerned, yet
any fair reading of the record proves that his stand
was wise, necessary and beneficial.

His bitter antagonism to the Constitution proceeded
from the fact that it contained no bill of rights, pro-
viding no protection whatsoever for states and in-
dividuals. Facing a convention in which Madison and
Marshall could count a majority of fifty votes, Henry
fought for twenty-three days, and at the end a
majority of ten was secured only by a solemn pledge
to propose and demand the amendments that he asked.

He barred Madison from election to Congress until
that rising statesman took fresh oath to make the fight
for a bill of rights. Madison kept his promise, and
the first ten amendments to the Constitution of the
United States are as much Patrick Henry's as though
he had written them in with his own hand.

Washington, recovering from his fears and dis-
trusts, returned to his old faith in and affection for
Henry, and offered him in turn the posts of Secretary
of State and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, but
mere office holding had no lure to draw the patriot
from the shade and quiet of his retirement. Nor

[61]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

would lie accept an appointment to the Senate nor an
election to the governorship, and lie gave a like refusal
to President John Adams when asked to serve as one
of three envoys extraordinary to France.

Only one thing had power to stir him from his ill-
ness and exhaustion. "When Madison began to attack
the Constitution as fiercely as he had defended it, and
joined with Jefferson to tear at the very foundations
of government, Washington begged Henry to come to
the rescue and stem the tide of ugly passion.

Dragging himself from his bed, Patrick Henry
gathered his failing forces for this final service, and
even as he completed a tremendous and affective ap-
peal for the sanctity of the Union, fell back into the
arms of his friends. Two months later he breathed
his last, dead on the field of battle as much as any
soldier.

[62]

VI

THE TJSTHAPPY WABBIOB

As COLOHEL GEORGE WASHISTGTOK rode hard and
fast through the Virginia woods on a certain May
morning in 1758, there was small suggestion of the
lover in his hot young face. The capture of Fort
Duquesne had waited full long upon munitions and
supplies, and his business at Williamsburg was to
whip sluggards into action.

Even when hailed by a hospitable planter and
forced to stop for dinner, he refused to have his
charger stabled, insisting that he must not tarry. Once
inside the white-pillared mansion, however, haste fell
from him like a dropped cloak, for Martha Custis as
charming as comely happened to be a visitor. It was
well into the next day before he tore himself away, and
such was the swiftness with which he despatched his
Williamsburg affairs that the same week saw Vn'm at
the Custis home, declaring his love with a passion that
swept resistance aside.

It is to be doubted if there was much. Standing
well above six feet strong, straight and slender as a
forest pine his face like that on a Greek coin, the
young colonel also possessed the appeal that romantic
and colorful adventure ever gives.

At twenty-one he had made a heroic journey
through the wilderness, carrying England 's threat to
the French forts on the Ohio and returning with
wampum belts that told of alliances gained with Queen

[63]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Allequippa, and Tanacharisson, great Half King of
the Senecas.

In the war that followed it was his bravery that
saved Braddock's demoralized men from massacre,
and his resourcefulness that held the frontier four full
years. Virginia adored him, the colonies rang with his
fame, and even England applauded his exploits.

Taking a plighted word with him, Washington re-
turned to fighting that was fierce and hand to hand,
for the French had their backs against the wall. In
November, however, he captured Fort Duquesne, now
to be Fort Pitt, and, not waiting for the formal end of
war, raced back and led Ms bride to the altar within
ten days. Famous at twenty-six, and rich, for Mrs.
Custis brought many smiling acres to join with those
left him by his brother, Lawrence, the young soldier
settled down at Mount Vernon and proceeded to order
life along the lines he loved.

Never was there a more perfect expression of the
American frontier than George Washington. From
childhood he knew the silent woods as he knew his
home, and not an Indian was half so swift and strong.
Eich connections and high-born friends old Lord
Fairfax loved him as a son held out the promise of
an easy life, but he turned away from it even as he
turned away from books. At sixteen, entirely self-
taught, he became a surveyor, and for three years
endured every hardship of the forest, rejoicing in
danger and privation.

As master of Mount Vernon there was the care of
the estate to give his active mind its necessary occupa-
tion, horses and hounds for hunting, and congenial
neighbors for the friendships, cards and dancing that
his gay soul loved. A free life, an intimate contact
with Mother Earth, and always the solitude of the

[64]

TEE UNHAPPY WARRIOR

woods when Ms wild note called. Out of the hope that
this welcome peace might not be disturbed, he prayed
that differences with Great Britain would be com-
promised, yet he wore his uniform to the second ses-
sion of the Continental Congress, and was the first to
pledge life and fortune to the cause of independence.
An anguish of dismay swept his heart, however, when
he was named by acclamation to command the Con-
tinental armies. An ardent, high-tempered a man as
ever lived, his bold soul would have rejoiced in the
fierce give and take of combat for his country, but he
shrank from the responsibilities and routines of the
supreme command. With clear vision he saw the
bitter years that stretched ahead the drudgery, the
wrangles with politicians, the necessity of humbling
pride and curbing tongue. Yet later he wrote his wife,
"It was utterly out of my power to refuse this ap-
pointment without exposing my character to such
censure as would have reflected dishonor."

After that one despairing letter Ms good-by to
happiness no one was privileged to hear his murmur.
Setting Mmself to the task with the greatness that
men divined, he made himself over so completely that
only three times thereafter did the real Washington
break through the discipline Ms iron will imposed.

At Monmouth Courthouse, when victory was
snatched from Ms grasp, he damned Charles Lee for
a coward and cursed him with a fury and fluency that
won the admiration of veteran teamsters. Once, when
president, beaten upon by storms of abuse, he stunned
the Cabinet with Ms rage, crying out that he would
rather be in his grave than submit to such treatment.
The tMrd time was when he kicked Edmund Randolph
out of office, declaring that "A damnder scoundrel
God Almighty never permitted to disgrace humanity."

[65]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

For the rest, he battened down his passions and
impetuosities, accepting treachery, treason, disloyalty
and black ingratitude as part of his burden. Patriot-
ism shackled him and until the very end he was to
look at life through the prison bars of duty.

These are facts that historians failed to see or else
decided to ignore. As a result, posterity has built up
a pleasing conception of Washington as the happy
envied commander of a citizen army that numbered
every American able to bear arms ; moving from vic-
tory to victory as in the stately measures of the
minuet ; applauded and loved without break or reserva-
tion; remote, majestic and passionless as a god. There
is never mention of years of utter hell, and even, as it
is blandly assumed that he was born old and grave,
the sad, ravaged face is looked upon as a sort of
birthmark.

From the moment he reached Boston in July, 1775,
Washington was put to work making bricks without
straw, for the army that he found was an undisciplined
rabble, lacking money, food, clothes, rifles and am-
munition. During the eight months he sat helpless
under the guns of Gage and Howe, while Congress
screamed at him for his inaction, there were but thirty
barrels of powder in the camp. As fast as he drilled
the raw militia into some sort of shape, enlistments
expired and the work had to be done all over again
with new batches of unruly recruits.

Not until March did gallant Henry Knox sled down
from Ticonderoga with ample munitions, and in a
night Washington occupied Dorchester Heights, com-
pelling Howe to quit Boston and take to his ships.

Only for a moment the clouds lifted. Marching
down to New York, he watched Sir William Howe
assemble thirty thousand trained soldiers on Staten

[66]

TEE UNHAPPY WARRIOR

Island, backed by the fleet of Admiral Lord Howe, and
heard that England was hiring German mercenaries,
twelve thousand from Hesse-Cassel alone.

Seeing the necessity of a victory, Washington drove
his half -trained soldiers to the battle of Long Island,
but the blunders of Israel Putnam not only lost the
day but put the entire army in danger of annihilation.
All that Howe had to do was to put the fleet between
the Americans and the mainland, but a fog came up,
as in some heroic legend, and under its blessed cover
Washington whipped his men into small boats and
regained the New York shore.

As he fell back to Harlem Heights and then to
White Plains, whole regiments deserted and gave
themselves up to open plundering. Officers quarreled
over rank as dogs over bones; there was graft and
corruption in connection with army supplies, and, as
money came from the voluntary contributions of the
states, funds could not be relied upon.

Congress, fearful that "military power might over-
balance the civil," only permitted enlistments for four
months, making demoralization a continuous process,
and as if to make discipline impossible, no soldier
could be punished without the consent of the state
from which he came. The politicians also fancied
themselves tacticians, and when Congress insisted that
the Hudson Eiver forts must be held, Washington had
the agony of seeing them captured, together with two
thousand men and valuable supplies.

December saw him fleeing across the frozen flats
of New Jersey, hotly pursued by Cornwallis, while
back in Westchester dawdled General Charles Lee with
a large force. Day after day he was ordered to follow,
but the arrogant, scheming soldier of fortune had the
secret purpose of keeping himself strong until Wash-

[67]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

ington should be destroyed, and then, after striking
some dramatic blow, succeeding to the chief command.

Horatio Gates, another English-born major-general
appointed by Congress, entertained a similar ambition
for himself, and there was never a moment when these
knives of treachery were not at Washington's back.

The main army dwindled to three thousand, almost
the whole of New Jersey turned Tory, and as Wash-
ington crossed the Delaware, sinking all boats left
behind him, the British snapped at his heels.

Ordering his Hessians to wait at Trenton until
the river froze, Cornwallis turned away from a foe
that seemed absolutely helpless, and went back to New
York for Christmas dinner with the Howes. Then it
was that Washington resolved upon the stroke that
moved Frederick the Great to such delighted admira-
tion. Enlistments had expired again, but the men
agreed to serve an additional six weeks for ten dollars,
paid in hard money, and Eobert Morris, who was to
spend three of his last years in a debtors' prison,
raised fifty thousand dollars on his personal note.

What need to tell again of that heroic crossing
ten hours in open boats amid floating, crashing
ice the nine-mile tramp through driving sleet and
snow the thunderbolt assault at dawn that captured
nine hundred Hessians? Or the masterly strategy
that waited calmly for the approach of Cornwallis,
then slipped past him in the night to fall on Princeton?

But for the exhaustion of the men they had not
slept for thirty-six hours Brunswick and the British
supplies would have been captured, but even so,
Washington retired to winter quarters at Morristown
with the wild acclaim of an encouraged country ring-
ing in Ms ears.

He himself suffered no illusions. The British fleet

[68]

TEE UNHAPPY WARRIOR

controlled the sea, and his clear eye saw that all the
Howes had to do was to seize Boston, New York,
Charleston and Philadelphia, and then sit tight while
America strangled. Even should British stupidity
continue to overlook this obvious strategy, a second
deadly peril threatened. Burgoyne was inarching
down from Canada, and if Howe, sailing up the Hud-
son, joined forces with him it would give the British
full control of the great river, cutting America in
isolated halves.

Sending men and artillery to reinforce General
Schuyler, though he could ill afford to spare either,
together with explicit directions for the campaign
against Burgoyne, Washington addressed himself to
the despairing task of barring Howe ? s progress up the
Hudson.

At this crisis in American affairs, there came the
blessing of another British blunder, for Howe elected
to capture Philadelphia before effecting a juncture
with Burgoyne. Washington was more than content
to let him have the city, but Congress was now in full
cry against "Fabian tactics," lacking the wit to see
either their genius or their necessity, and he was
forced to give battle at the Brandywine.

Defeated, as he knew he would be, on the very heels
of that defeat Washington lifted the ragged army in
the grip of his own tremendous resolve and hurled it
in a surprise attack on Howe's forces as they lay in
Germantown. Again a fog fell, this time unkindly, for
a confusion in troop movements lost the Americans a
great victory.

Howe, nevertheless, was penned in Philadelphia,
and soon from the north came news of Burgoyne ? s
surrender. Gates, appointed to command at the last
moment by the favoritism of Congress, received battle

[69]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

plans worked out by Washington and skilfully
executed by the unfortunate Schuyler, but even so, the
amazing incompetence of this strutting lackey almost
invited ruin.

For thirty days he labored valiantly to let Bur-
goyne escape the trap that had been laid for him, and
when fiery Benedict Arnold cried out against such
cowardly fooling, he was ordered to his tent. At last
Daniel Morgan's rifle men took matters in their own
hands, and, as the issue hung in the balance, Arnold
rushed upon the field and led the desperate charges
that smashed British resistance and forced Burgoyne 's
surrender.

Congress, however, went mad in adulation of
Gates; the dash and daring of the "Hero of Sara-
toga" were acclaimed as the qualities essential to
American success, and politicians bemoaned the fact
that he was not in chief command.

Meanwhile Washington, going into winter quarters
at Valley Forge, was given neither money, food, cloth-
ing nor blankets. Shoeless men left bloody footprints
in the snow; half -naked wretches huddled about fires
through the bitter nights that they might not freeze
in their coverless bunks, while starvation vied with
smallpox in taking toll of human life.

Then it was that joy went out of George Washing-
ton's life forever; that laughter left his heart, never
to return, and that sadness reset his face in those iron
lines his portraits show. His own private fortune had
been pledged to the limit; Robert Morris's exchequer
was exhausted; the intrigues and criminal imbecilities
of Congress defeated every hope and plan, and as he
fell on his knees under the midnight sky, it was from
a broken, bleeding heart that he cried to God.

More and more openly worked the forces of

[70]

TEE UNHAPPY WARRIOR

treachery. Lee, fortunately, had been removed from
the scene by capture, but the unspeakable Grates offered
full expression for congressional malignancy. John
Hancock, who had hoped to be made commander-in-
chief; John Adams, ever the victim of his mean
jealousies, and many another gave aid to the Conway
Cabal, and every violence of ugly detraction beat upon
the unhappy man who sat watching his soldiers die at
Valley Forge.

The conspiracy, of course, lasted no longer than
the moment of its discovery, for from the army came
a roar of anger, and John Cadwallader forced Conway
to a duel and shot him down.

One comfort "Washington had the love of his
soldiers and there was strength too, in the comrade-
ship of the loyal efficient officers that he had managed
to gather around him in spite of political intrigue.
Greene and Knox were his strong arms; young
Alexander Hamilton, his military secretary, was a
tower of strength; and from Europe had come La
Fayette, Pulaski, Kosciuszko, De Kalb and Baron von
Steuben, gallant and devoted.

Slowly the fearful winter wore away, and May
brought the glad news that France was now an ally.
With this threat against England's control of the sea,
Howe was superseded by Sir Henry Clinton, and in
June the new commander set about the business of
leaving Philadelphia for New York,

Springing to the pursuit with furious energy,
Washington trapped the British at Monmouth Court
House and would have crushed it but for the treachery
of Charles Lee, unhappily returned to his command
by an exchange of prisoners. Night fell before
Washington could remedy the confusion of conflicting
orders, and Clinton escaped under cover of darkness.

[71]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

It was as if some malignant fate liad determined
that Washington's spirit should be broken. The
French fleet, arriving in June, feinted half-heartedly
at New York and Newport, and then D'Estaing sailed
away to the West Indies. Clinton, taking courage,
sent an army to capture Savannah and ravage Georgia,
and in Pennsylvania and Northern New York the Tory
Butlers and Johnsons urged their wild Indians to
bloody massacres that did not spare women or babes.
Sending La Fayette to France to beg more generous
cooperation, Washington hurried to Philadelphia in
an effort to force Congress to effective action.

Delusive hope ! By now all men of character were
in the field or "busy in their various states, leaving
politicians at the nation's helm. As Washington
recorded in bitter words, he found only "idleness,
dissipation and extravagance . . . party disputes
and personal quarrels the great business of the
day . . . accumulating debt, ruined finances, depre-
ciated money/' and none to listen to him when he
pointed out "that our affairs are in a more distressed,
ruinous and deplorable condition than they have been
since the commencement of the war."

The one bright spot in the spring of 1779 was the
news of George Rogers Clark's brilliant campaign in
the Northwest, his capture of Vincennes ending British
rule in the Northwest. Everywhere else was darkness.
Concentrating at West Point, Washington held the
Hudson against Clinton, and Wayne's furious assault
on Stony Point not only taught the British caution but
also eased the pressure on ravaged Connecticut. In
the South, however, D'Estaing raised new hopes only
to dash them. Suddenly appearing off the Georgia
coast, he combined with Lincoln to storm Savannah,
but sailed away in the hour of triumph, leaving the
Americans to defeat.

[72]

THE UNHAPPY WARRIOR

Another winter saw the wretched army brought
once more to the verge of dissolution. So cold it was
that New York harbor froze, and at Morristown
soldiers died by the hundreds of hunger and privation.
Death and desertion reduced resistance to a mere
shell, but "Washington begging flour from state to
state, borrowing money by personal solicitation
poured the wine of his own fierce resolution into the
veins of starving men and held a few thousands
together. Moving like a corpse that rejected burial,
the gaunt, haggard band staggered forth in the spring
to take up the old task of holding the Hudson.

Messengers brought news of the fall of Charleston
and the capture of Lincoln's army; Eochambeau came
in July with five thousand men, but the supporting
fleet met with delay, and inaction followed. Blow suc-
ceeded blow. Over Washington's protests Congress
gave Q-ates chief command in South Carolina, and this
egregious ass not only lost his army at Camden, but
ran eighty miles without looking back.

In September, stung to madness by the insults and
injustices of politicians, Benedict Arnold sold his
honor for fifty thousand dollars and a general's com-
mission in the British service. Washington had loved
Arnold, and for the first time men saw him cry great
sobs that tore his heart a David mourning Absalom,

As if to spare him nothing, winter was again an
agony of cold and hunger. In January the Pennsyl-
vania troops mutinied and marched on Congress, and
only the prompt hangings of certain ringleaders pre-
vented like action on the part of the New Jersey
men. Checking disintegration by sheer force of will,
^Washington sent his beloved Greene down South, to-
gether with hard-bitted Daniel Morgan, Baron von
Steuben, La Fayette and Light Horse Harry Lee, for

[73]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

be saw the southern states as the center of military
operations.

Eesults were soon apparent, for Greene's masterly
strategy turned every defeat into a victory, and at
last Cornwallis was driven back into Virginia, and
cornered at Yorktown.

Washington learned in May that the French fleet
had sailed from Brest, and weariness fell from him as
he prepared to strike. He had but four thousand
men, instead of the thirty-seven thousand promised
by Congress, but Eochambeau hurried to the Hudson
with his five thousand, and plans were laid for an
attack on New York

In August, however, word came that Admiral de
G-rasse was sailing from San Domingo straight for
Chesapeake Bay, and on the instant "Washington
grasped the chance of crushing Cornwallis. Again it
was a question of money, and again Bobert Morris
raised twenty thousand dollars, borrowing the money
from Eochambeau on his own personal responsibility.
Masterly strategy deceived the British, and before
Clinton awoke, the allied army was well past Phila-
delphia, and October saw the sword of Cornwallis
offered in surrender,

The two years that followed were as filled with
hardship and heartache as any that had gone before,
for Congress and the states gaily assumed that York-
town ended the war, and dismissed the army from
their thoughts.

Soldiers continued to serve, out of their love for
Washington, but as the dawn of 1783 saw peace a
certainty, these scarred, impoverished veterans began
to murmur. Where was the money due them? "Were
they to be kicked out to starve in the ashes of their
ruined homes? And as Congress ignored their plight,

[74]

TEE UNHAPPY WARRIOR

Grates crept from obscurity, together with other
mischief makers, and urged the men "not to sheathe
your swords until you have obtained full and ample
justice. "

Not even his experience at Valley Forge was more
bitter to George Washington than this hour, for he
was in fullest sympathy with his soldiers, yet mutiny
and anarchy could not be permitted to menace victory
and independence. Facing the sullen gathering in the
hope of winning them away from their angers, he saw
before him those who were as dear as brothers, and
tears filled his eyes. The head that he bared was no
longer hazel, but white as snow, and it was with
shaking hands that he fumbled for his steel-rimmed
glasses. "You see," he said apologetically and with
unpremeditated pathos, "I have grown not only gray
but blind in your service. "

There was no need for him to read his speech. Men
crowded about him, sobbing, begging forgiveness as
from a beloved father, and Gates and his crew were
drummed from camp.

Nor did peace bring him rest. For eight years his
shoulders had borne the full burden of a people's
revolution; for eight years politicians had made a
runway of Ms proud heart ; and now the one passion
left alive was to gain the quiet of Mount Vernon
that his horses and hounds might let Mm forget the
meannesses of men.

Yet when he saw the country plunging to ruin
states fighting, commerce dead, open talk of foreign
alliances conscience forced him to give months to
the formation of a Constitution that would provide a
central government with strength, power and recog-
nized authorities. Branded as a fool and traitor for
Ms part in this "infamous conspiracy against the

[75]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

liberties of a free people/' lie hurried back to Mount
Vernon with, the sole desire of hiding in its shade for
the rest of his life, but when it came to choosing a
president, the country knew him as the one possible
selection.

Washington, loathing politics and politicians by
reason of bitter experiences, received the news as
though it were a death sentence. Writing to General
Knox, his most loved friend, he said, "My movements
to the chair of government will be accompanied by
feelings not unlike those of a culprit who is going to
the place of his execution, so unwilling am I, in the
evening of a life nearly consumed in public cares, to
quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties.
Integrity and firmness are all I can promise."

The four years that followed were no less packed
with drudgery and heartbreak than the Revolution
itself, for it was a brand-new government that Wash-
ington had to fashion, a nation that he had to create,
an inanimate Constitution that had to be given
life. Indomitable, majestic, he moved irresistibly to
his objectives, every one concerned with the confirma-
tion of independence, the permanence of free institu-
tion, laying foundations that endure to-day, yet beset
at every step by hate.

Prying eyes counted the cost of what he ate, and
in the midst of great problems we find him rebuking
his cook for spending two dollars on the first shad of
the season. Even as he organized departments of
government, and grappled with tremendous issues, he
had to form rules of presidential etiquette, and lay
down regulations for dinners and receptions.

Jefferson, drunk with the French Revolution, went
about in dirty linen and dragging hose handshaking
and shoulder slapping and politicians and people

[76]

THE UNHAPPY WAEEIOE

leaped to the theory that careless dress and boisterous
familiarities were the only proofs of true democracy*

Even had Washington possessed less reverence for
the high office Ms simplicity and dignity would have
made him shrink from such vulgar charlatanism ; and
he was assailed as "monarchical" and accused of
wanting to make himself a king. Yet when he
announced intention not to accept reelection even Ms
enemies joined in begging him to serve a second term;
and, though his soul sickened at the prospect, he was
forced to realize that his work was not yet done.

The continued opposition to every domestic policy
seemed to plumb all possible depths of hate and bitter-
ness, but it was as nothing compared to the wave of
insane anger that swept the country when Washington
refused to join the French Revolutionists in their war
on England, Spain and Holland. Gripped by a species
of ungovernable hysteria, people cried out against him
as one who ought to be hanged, and even as they
screamed with delight every time a new head fell in
the Place de la Concorde, cursed the President who
would not let America plunge into the bath of blood.

What must have hurt Washington most was that
the frenzied state of public opinion made it impossible
for him to receive the son of imprisoned La Fayette,
and he had to care f cr the boy by stealth until the end
of liis term left him free to take him to his heart and
home.

The Jay Treaty occasioned an even more terrible
convulsion. This diplomatic bargain with Great
Britain was absolutely necessary to America's peace
and prosperity, yet a dog would not have been stoned
as was George Washington.

Even so, he could have had a third term for the
taking beneath surface froth there was still sanity

[77]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

and understanding in tlie country but Washington
felt that his release had come at last. He knew he had
builded well, the state stood bedrocked in honor and
integrity, and now that duty no longer called, now
that his conscience freed him, he turned to Mount
Vernon with a great gladness, pitifully eager for its
peace. Public service had depleted his private re-
sources (during the war he had met crisis after
crisis with his own private fortune, and neither as
commander-in-chief nor as president had he taken one
cent of salary), but by his own confession he had never
felt so rich as when he turned his back on the capital
and its politicians.

Abuse followed him, opposition papers announcing
a "day of jubilee' 5 that the man had gone "who is the
source of all the misfortunes of our country"; that
the name of Washington would no more "give cur-
rency to political iniquity, and legalize corruption";
and that the nation was finally rid of a traitor who had
"cankered the principle of republicanism and jeopard-
ized the very existence of public liberty." He had
"debauched the nation" and shown that "the mask
of patriotism may be worn to conceal the foulest
designs against the liberties of the people"; and no
less a person than James Monroe egged on Thomas
Paine to vilest slander.

It did not matter, for what were a few more insults
to one who had never known anything but public
service? The woods soon shut out the taunts and
screams of an ungrateful people, and while the joy of
living was killed in him, and the old ardors dead,
crushed under years of trial and heartache, the quiet
of the fields was heavenly, and in content, at least, the
Father of His Country waited for the end.

[78]

vn

THE "BEAT" WHO CLIMBED TO THE STABS

THREE men faced Alexander Hamilton in his quiet
library Muhlenberg, Speaker of the House, Senator
James Monroe, and Venables, a Virginia Congress-
manholding his ruin in their hands. And all three
were enemies, leaders of the Jeffersonian pack that
bayed him. Slowly, circumstantially, Muhlenberg
presented the indictment. They had come into posses-
sion of certain documents that seemed to indicate a
most improper connection between the Secretary of
the Treasury and one Eeynolds ; the evidence was plain
that money had passed at divers times, and Eeynolds
made explicit statement that these sums had been
given to him by Hamilton for purposes of speculation
upon advance information as to governmental policies.
Despite the conclusiveness of the case, they had deemed
it fairest to hear him before presenting the papers to
President "Washington.

Muhlenberg, grim Lutheran that he was, could not
hide the pity in his eyes, but Monroe, Thomas Jeffer-
son's most fanatical adherent, took no trouble to
conceal his exultation. He had served with Hamilton
throughout the war, and they had shared the horrors
of Valley Forge, but memories of old comradeship
lay buried under a weight of political hatred. Now
was the Colossus of Federalism, this man who ground
them daily beneath his contemptuous heel, to be
dragged from the seats of the mighty.

[79]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

To save his honor as a public man, Hamilton was
without other recourse than the jeopardy of his
domestic happiness, yet for one of his fierce pride
there was no choice . Calmly, lucidly, giving no sign
of the shame and nausea that must have shaken him
to his soul, the young Secretary of the Treasury laid
bare a tragedy of human weakness such as has
stained the careers of great men from the days of
Cteesar. The year before he had met Mrs. Eeynolds,
posing at the time as a deserted wife, and with
sufficient beauty to mask her innate vulgarity. Always
a hopeless adolescent where women were concerned,
finding in love affairs an emotional and intellectual
stimulant, Hamilton yielded to her seductions, and
there followed many nights when he crept through the
back streets of Philadelphia to gain the lady's bed-
room.

As Hamilton faced his three accusers there came
from the lower floor the laughter of his children, the
song^of a wife that he loved truly for all of his lapses,
and it was to this accompaniment that he stripped
himself of every decent reticence. The husband had
appeared in due time, as might have been ex-
pected, after much breast beating and noisy declama-
tion, consented to let one thousand dollars salve his
outraged honor. The intrigue even continued for some
months thereafter, punctuated by regular payments
to the shameless Keynolds, only too happy to serve as
watch dog for the amour.

Muhlenberg and Venables, as convinced as em-
barrassed, begged him to say no more, but Hamilton
refused to rest content with less than absolute vindica-
tion. From his desk he produced letters and receipts,
and when he had done, the three inquisitors expressed
entire satisfaction with the manner in which he had

[80]

TEE "BRAT" WHO CLIMBED TO THE STARS

cleansed Ms public honor, and after apologizing for a
painful, even if unintended, intrusion into Ms private
affairs, gave voluntary pledges of everlasting secrecy.

Five years went by years that saw Hamilton and
Jefferson locked in a death grapple of personal hatred
and opposed ideals, savage hands ever at each other's
throat, the destinies of a nation resting on the outcome
of the struggle. Back from France came Minister
Monroe, recalled by WasMngton for Ms many indis-
cretions, Ms dull soul filled with fury against Hamilton
as the cause of Ms disgrace. Soon the country stirred
to the charge that Alexander Hamilton, wMle Secretary
of the Treasury, had indulged in secret and shameful
speculation on the strength of his prior knowledge as
to the government's intentions, using a man named
Reynolds as Ms agent. A drunken scalawag, one
Callender, printed the accusation, but behind him
peered the curdled face of James Monroe, the only
man in possession of the memoranda made that
memorable evening in Hamilton's library.

There was shrewdness in the trick for all its shame-
lessness; Hamilton's one defense was full and public
confession of a sordid scandal, and since tMs entailed
the loss of private reputation, the breaking of a true
wife's heart, Monroe was justified in assuming that
he would sit silent wMle the poison worked. Hamilton,
however, held his pride as an honest public servant
above all other prides; better far that people should
lose confidence in him rather than in officials, and with
a superb selflessness he published every document in
connection with the Reynolds affair. It was a bleeding
heart that he took out of Ms breast and held to public
view, yet only for one shamefaced moment was per-
secution stilled.

How they hated him, and yet no public figure, save

[81]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

Washington, was so adored. Men were either Alexan-
der Hamilton's frenzied enemies or else his nnasking
followers. His flaming personality left no middle
ground. From the day that he came to America from
the West Indies, sent by charitable subscriptions to
receive an education, genius set him apart from his
fellows. A boy of twenty, serving a gun, even the
reserved Washington was won to him at once, and
made him his military secretary; generals received
his counsel eagerly, and Congress cowered before the
lash of his tongue and pen. Born out of wedlock, he
moved as royally as a prince of the blood ; fashioned
with the esquisiteness of a Greek carving, his face
was only saved from beauty by its strength ; and that
proud heiress, Betty Schuyler, had given him her hand
in gladness.

An aristocrat to his finger tips, despising
democracy as vulgar and disorderly, in the Constitu-
tional Convention he had proposed an elective mon-
archy with precisely balanced powers to prevent
despotism. The document, as framed, disgusted him
with its consideration for the masses, but accepting it
as " better than nothing," he had carried it to ratifica-
tion. Once in the office of Secretary of Treasury,
however, he set to work to bring about what the
makers of the Constitution had feared to create a
supreme federal sovereignty, bulwarked by the great
landowners and rich merchant class. The people? It
was enough that they should bo fed, housed and justly
treated.

Laying firm hands upon the helm of government, he
organized not only his own department but every
other, seeming to grasp the intricacies of finance,
administration and statecraft by some process of
divination. Over frantic protests, he drove through

[82]

THE "BEAT" WHO CLIMBED TO THE STARS

his program for the rehabilitation of the national
credit, forcing full recognition of the eighty million
dollars that the war had cost, and when confronted by
the "unconstitutionally" of his proposed National
Bank, boldly evoked the doctrine of implied powers*

Thomas Jefferson, coming to be Secretary of State,
fresh from five happy, colorful years in France, shud-
dered at these conditions that met his eyes. With all
his soul he hated the idea of a "strong government";
his dream was a loose confederacy of jealous states,
the federal control so barren of real power as to
constitute no threat against his beloved Rights of Man.
He heard Vice-President Adams, his chunky figure
gay in fine satin, urge the wisdom of titles, and Wash-
ington's custom of holding levees, instead of letting
freeborn citizens run in and out of his office at will,
seemed "an apish mimickry of kings." There was no
question as to his deadly sincerity, for in young man-
hood he had broken with his class by moving the House
of Burgesses to abolish the laws of primogeniture and
entail ; he had also separated church and state in Vir-
ginia, and procured religious freedom things for
which he was cursed as an atheist to the day of his
death.

From the moment that they faced each other in
Washington's Cabinet, the two men knew themselves
doomed to deadly antagonism. Hamilton saw only
the State ; Jefferson saw only the Individual. Fierce
and incessant were their wrangles, Hamilton deriding
Jefferson as a crack-brained visionary, Jefferson
attacking Hamilton as a monarchist seeking to pervert
democratic institutions. Washington, pained by this
bitter enmity, tormented by their quarrels, soon gave
up attempt at reconciliation but out of his love and
admiration for them both, refused to part with either.

[83]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Giants they were, these two that now stripped for
the grapple ! Amazing men, and most amazing of all
in their paradoxical contrasts! Hamilton, "the bas-
tard brat of a Scotch pedlar/ * as envious John
Adams liked to sneer, standing for aristocracy,
scorning the masses as ignorant and incapable;
Jefferson, born to wealth and petted by the Virginia
oligarchy, master of a great estate and many slaves,
yet holding democracy as his religion, possessed by
a mystic faith in the righteousness of Common People,
moving always in a Utopia where love and fraternity
did away with the need for laws.

At every point it was as if the two antagonists were
changelings. Hamilton, the nobody, an orator able to
move jeering crowds to his will ; Jefferson, the heir to
great traditions, tongue-tied on the platform and
fearful of debate ; Hamilton, the commoner, an epitome
of elegance in manner and deportment ; Jefferson, the
patrician, slovenly in attire and negligent in the
formal courtesies; Hamilton, the monarchist, cordial,
warm-hearted and irresistibly fascinating in public
contacts ; Jefferson, the ardent democrat, cold, reserved
and aloof save over the table or about the fire with
intimates.

Never was a contest so one-sided at the outset.
Hamilton had clean-cut plans, Jefferson only words;
the one created, the other protested; and defeat
followed defeat. As far as Jefferson's congressional
support was concerned in the Senate, Monroe had
courage without brains, and in the House, frail, bandy-
legged Madison had brains without force, with the
result that every debate witnessed a fresh slaughter.
When the French Revolutionaries declared war
against England, iron-willed Hamilton held the United
States to neutrality over Jefferson's bitter protests,

[84]

THE "BRAT" WHO CLIMBED TO THE STARS

and when lie followed this by forcing the recall of
Citizen Genet, harassed Jefferson retired from the
Cabinet and sought the grateful shade of Monticello.

Hamilton's star now rode the heavens in undis-
puted glory. Twenty years before he had landed in
Boston, a poor, friendless, nameless boy, and now he
sat at the right hand of George "Washington master
of the government's machinery, the country's most
potent voice. The Whisky Rebellion raising its ugly
threat of secession, he swept aside the Secretary of
"War, took the field himself and crushed it; when a
people clamored for war against England, he beat
down their angers, and brought about a treaty of
commerce and amity. Resigning in 1795, compelled
to the course by a burden of debt, he had the right to
feel that his enemies were dust beneath his feet.

Jefferson, however, had not been idle. From
Monticello he worked steadily at the organization of
the forces of discontent and suspicion. Refusal to
aid France, together with the Jay Treaty, played into
his hands, and the election of 1796 found him vice-
president, having come within two votes of defeating
Adams. Once again the enemies were face to face;
yet, even as the Great Dreamer rejoiced, fate inter-
vened again.

France, idol of the Jeffersonians, ravaged our
commerce, and it was not merely that our envoys were
subjected to insult and humiliation; Talleyrand
threatened instant war if we did not submit to black-
mail. Against this sordid background, Pinckney's
sublime reply, "Millions for defense, but not one cent
for tribute, " flamed in letters of fire. The demoralized
Democrats were crushed under foot ; Washington was
called from his fields to captain an army of eighty
thousand, and Hamilton named major-general and

[85]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

made second in command. Sedition laws scourged the
land with whips of hate, and all who dared to lift the
voice of protest or criticism were thrown into filthy
cells, even Jefferson going in fear of his liberty.

Now as never before, Hamilton dreamed great
dreams, his imagination, ever eagle-winged, visioning
campaigns of conquest that would win him proud
place with Caesar and Cortes. Immediately upon the
outbreak of hostilities he planned to seize Louisiana,
Florida and Cuba, and then strike at Spain's control
of South America, planting the Stars and Stripes on
the high peaks of the Andes. Even more than these
glories, war offered opportunity for the further cen-
tralization of power in the federal government, and it
would give chance to destroy Jefferson and his rabble,
stamping out the last vestige of democracy.

Again we witness the whims of fate! France,
swallowing her belligerency, cooed like any dove, and
the position of America's "army of defense," at first
embarrassing, became absurd. Taxpayers began to
grumble, and old John Adams, recovering from his
emotional debauch, showed a strong inclination to the
olive branch. Furiously, imperiously, Hamilton gave
the order for a declaration of war, but the President
planted stubborn feet, and on receiving word that
France would welcome new envoys, swallowed pride
that the country might have peace.

Entering the campaign of 1800, Hamilton must
have felt the chill of fast approaching shadows. He
hated Adams, and Adams hated him ; as the result of a
people's rage against the Alien and Sedition Laws,
Jefferson marched at the head of an army instead of
a corporal's guard, and Washington slept in his tomb
at Mount Vernon, no longer able to help the man he
loved as a son. Hamilton's one chance was to retain

[86]

THE "BRAT" WHO CLIMBED TO THE STARS

control of Ms own ^state of New York, and here he
made the master blunder of underestimating Aaron
Burr. This consummate politician, working like a
mole, introduced money and machine methods into the
haphazard politics of the time, and in the trial of
strength, Hamilton went down to defeat.

Vigorous support of Adams might still have saved
the day, tut Hamilton was in no mood to view the
situation sanely, and he sent forth secret orders for
such manipulation of the electoral vote as should give
a majority to Pinckney, the vice-presidential nominee.
To further this plan, he penned a bitter pamphlet for
private circulation, damning Adams as a pompous,
inefficient, unreliable ass, but Burr procured a copy in
some sly fashion, and the fat was in the fire. Even
before this, the suspicious President had kicked the
Hamiltonians out of his Cabinet, and now the towering
structure of Federalism fell into ruins. The result
was this vote Jefferson, seventy-three; Burr, seven-
ty-three; Adams, sixty-five; Pinckney, sixty-four,
throwing the election into the House.

Many and startling reversals of fortune had
marked the duel between Hamilton and Jefferson, but
Fate, incurably dramatic, had been holding her su-
preme effect for the closing act. The first ballot
showed a deadlock^ Jefferson lacking one state for the
necessary choice, and suddenly Hamilton found him-
self raised from the abyss of defeat to a very height
of dominance. He had but to give the word and Aaron
Burr would take the Presidency.

Well was Hamilton entitled to let revenge sweep
his heart in a great black flood. His true character,
the purity of his patriotism, will ever stand attested
by Ms course. "If there be a man in the world I ought
to hate," he said, "it is Jefferson. With Burr I have

[87]

SONS OF" THE EAGLE

always been personally well. But the public good
must be paramount to every consideration."

Even while loathing Jefferson as an impractical
idealist, Hamilton saw through to his honesty and
nobility, just as his clear vision pierced Burr's smiling
mask, and knew him to be a Oataline in ambition and
consciencelessness. Jefferson, he felt, might not build
but he would not destroy; Burr's dark soul appalled
him. In one supreme assertion of leadership, he broke
the tie in favor of his ancient enemy. "Without one
backward glance or grateful word, the Great Dreamer
set his feet to the path of glory, climbing to his place
among the immortals. For a tragic moment Hamilton
looked about him at the wreck of his hopes, and then
turned to the unliked tasks of private life.

Four years went by years in which smiling, in-
scrutable Burr brooded over his wrongs and flung
spider webs into far corners years that saw Hamil-
ton confirm his title as leader of the -American bar. In
1804, facing Jefferson's enmity, and the certain knowl-
edge that the Democrats meant to refuse him renom-
ination, Burr announced himself as a candidate for
the governorship of New York. The New England
states, bitter against Virginia's office-holding oli-
garchy were talking openly of secession, and Burr,
playing skilfully upon every string of passion and
self-interest, had wormed himself into leadership of
the movement.

Working with patient dexterity buying, trading,
cajoling, deceiving Burr had success in his grasp
when Hamilton took the field against him, striking
terrific blows that bared secret purposes to the peo-
ple's view. Burr, beaten by seven thousand votes,
faced the future in desperation and despair, deserted
by all, ringed by public distrust, buried in debt all
due to one man.

[88]

-P

o

THE "BEAT" WHO CLIMBED TO TEE STARS

There had been nothing personal in Hamilton's
antagonism. He and Burr were of an age and had
served together during the war ; exteriorly, they were
much alike ardent, brilliant, fascinating and each
had taken frank pleasure in the society of the other.
Delightful Theodosia Burr ran in and out of The
Grange, loved by the Hamiltons, and Burr had never
hesitated to ask loans of Hamilton when extravagance
forced him to the wall. It was Burr, the politician,
that Hamilton opposed, knowing him to be without
any real love of country or ideals of public service, and.
discerning in him a stark, ruthless ambition that would
stop at nothing.

Burr found his excuse for a challenge in certain
expressions that Hamilton had used during the cam-
paign the real cause was his conviction that there
was no longer room in the world for both him and
Alexander Hamilton. At every step in his career this
man had blocked the way, and the time had come when
one or the other must die.

From the first Hamilton had known that the
challenge would come better than any one, he knew
the deadly quality that coiled behind Burr's smiling
eyes and to his apprehensive friends he admitted the
danger, but where public duty was concerned, he was
ever without choice. Abhorring the custom of dueling,
for only a short time before, his beloved son, Philip,
had been shot down on the so-called field of honor, it
was still the case that he accepted the inevitabilities
of the situation, even as Burr. During the interval be-
tween the acceptance of the challenge and the en-
counter, the two men met with unabated cordiality ; at
the dinner of the Society of the Cincinnati, Hamilton
sang his one song, The Drum, and Burr smiled
appreciation.

[89]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

The July sun was already hot in the heavens as
they crossed the Hudson and took their places on a
grassy ledge beneath Weehawken Heights. Hamilton,
knowing Burr to be a dead shot, nevertheless refused
to have the hair-triggers set, and told his seconds that
he did not mean to fire. At the word, Burr took steady
aim and fired; Hamilton's pistol discharged as he fell,
mortally wounded.

As if regretful of the favors heaped upon this
* ' bastard brat of a Scotch pedlar/' Fate scourged
him at the last. He lived a whole day in a hell of pain,
and Angelica, favorite of his daughters, went mad to
see his agony.

[90]

VIII

HOUND OF THE HEATHEN*

BLUFF Captain Bainbridge weighed anchor grudg-
ingly enough, the errand bitter to Ms whole being, for
he bore America's annual tribute to the Barbary
pirates. Five years had we paid blackmail for the
right to sail our merchant ships on the high seas, and
every fighting man resented the humiliation of it. The
Bashaw of Tripoli, the Bey of Tunis and the Emperor
of Morocco, these three greeted him with no more than
the usual insult, but the Dey of Algiers had chores
to do.

"Take my ambassador, " he ordered, "and carry
him to Constantinople."

"Not I!' 7 swore the furious Bainbridge with many
a lusty oath.

"You render me tribute, " cried the Dey, "and are
my slave. Obey, or by the beard of the Prophet "

It was sound reasoning, especially when backed by
double-shotted guns, and Bainbridge took the swart
envoy on board with such grace as he could muster.
Some joy waited for him at the end, however, for
while the Sultan had never heard of the United States,
the stars on our flag appealed to his superstition, and
he was pleased to give the young captain a firmcw that
freed him from the ignominy of further ferry service.

The next year 1801 it was the Bashaw of Tripoli
that gave rein to his arrogance. It had come to his
ears that we had presented a frigate to the Algerines

[91]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

in addition to our tribute, and that the Tunisians were
being given more money than he himself received.
Furious at these indignities, he declared war, vowing
to wipe our commerce from the seas and sell every
sailor into slavery. Thomas Jefferson, forced to ac-
cept the challenge, found himself in poor shape for
combat, as he had auctioned off the 'navy by way of
showing the people that he had none of Alexander
Hamilton's monarchical ideas.

Two years passed before a decent fleet could be
gathered together, and no sooner had it reached the
Tripolitan coast than the Philadelphia grounded on a
rock and was captured with her crew. "Woe indeed!
To have lost the frigate was damage enough, but her
possession by the Bashaw made disaster seem certain.
Now sprang forward young Stephen Decatur the
Huguenot strain showing in handsome face and dark,
brilliant eyes offering to make his way into the
harbor and blow up the Philadelphia where she lay at
anchor.

Every man begged the privilege of volunteering,
but only seventy-four could be taken, even this number
straining the ketch that Decatur picked for his pur-
pose. On the morning that the Intrepid came before
Tripoli, a great storm blew, and for nine days the little
band faced the double dangers of wreck and starvation.
When the waves stilled at last, it was a battered boat
that crawled into the harbor mouth, but neither leaks
nor hunger had power to chill Decatur 's blazing
courage. Father and grandfather before him had
sailed the seas in honor and daring, and love of coun-
try was still another clarion.

Never was venture more desperate. The Phila-
delphia itself carried forty-five guns, and lay moored
under the very muzzles of ten strong land batteries

[92]

HOUND OF THE HEATHEN

and tHe cannon of tlie Bashaw's castle, while in the
harbor were three cruisers, nineteen gunboats and two
galleys, manned by the flower of Tripoli's fighting
men.

Against this grim array Decatur had only the
ketch's four small guns and the cutlasses of his men.
In each heart, however, was not only passionate re-
solve to avenge America's many humiliations, but the
love and faith that Decatur never failed to inspire.

Through the gathering dusk crept the Intrepid, the
young commander lounging over the rail in casual
talk with boyish Tom MacDonough, one day to win
glory by his victory on Lake Champlain. Dressed in
rough sea clothes, they seemed harmless fishermen,
the volunteers pressing their bellies against the deck
in the deep shadow of the bulwarks.

It was Decatur 's purpose to run the ketch under
the frigate's bows, but within fifty feet of the goal,
there fell a dead and tragic cahn. The voice of the
watch, harsh with suspicion, now called to them to
stand off, but the Italian pilot answered quickly with
the glib story that they had lost their anchor, and
might they run a warp to the Philadelphia, and ride by
her for the night? Under cover of his gabble, a boat
slipped to the f orechains with a rope, and even as the
startled Arab sounded the alarm, the Intrepid drew
alongside, and Decatur and his men came leaping over
the rail like wildcats.

Such was the fury of the attack that victory was a
matter of minutes, half of the startled crew taking to
the water.

For a moment Decatur thrilled to the thought of
sailing the Philadelphia out of the harbor, but the
danger of re-capture held him back, and racing over
the dead that littered the deck, the youthful conquerors

[93]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

set fire to tlie doomed frigate in a score of places.
Pointing tlie guns straight at the castle in the hope
that their last volley might carry an American mes-
sage, the signal for retreat found flames bursting
through the hatches and licking at the rigging. Still
the calm held, and it was with feverish haste that they
pushed off and manned the ketch's sweeps, for at
any second the fire might reach the Philadelphia's
magazines.

This peril past, there was the gantlet of the
batteries and the cruisers. In the glare of the burn-
ing vessel the Intrepid was a fair mark and every
convulsive stagger was through a hail of lead: yet
when they won the open sea at last free of that
hell of roar and shot not a man had suffered mortal
injury. And as they shouted their defiance, a column
of flame shot to the sky, a mighty explosion shook
earth and sea, and looking down from the shattered
walls upon a wreck-strewn harbor, the Bashaw ordered
lashes for the minister who had assured him that
Americans were sheep, afraid to fight.

No less than Nelson led the world in praise, declar-
ing it "the most bold and daring act of the age/' and
Commodore Preble expressed the love and admiration
of the fleet when he wrote the President asking that
the young Lieutenant be promoted to post-captain.
Every heart now burned with confidence and high
resolve, and it was in a spirit of almost laughable
assurance that the shabby, hodge-podge fleet came
again before Tripoli. A frigate, three brigs, three
schooners, six gunboats and two bombards, borrowed
from the King of Naples small wonder the Bashaw
permitted himself a return to insolence.

The ships, drawing in as close as the reefs allowed,
began exchanging fire with the shore batteries, and

[94]

SOUND OF TEE HEATHEN

Decatur, prcmd in Ms new command, led a division of
three gunboats to the harbor mouth. Out to meet him
charged six of the enemy, all manned twice as heavily,
and he saw straightway that his one chance was to
come to close quarters.

Crying an order to unship the bowsprits and board,
he urged his men to the oars; and locked in a death
grip with the leading gunboat. Outnumbered two to
one, and fighting in the hand to hand fashion that the
Turks and Arabs were assumed to prefer, the Ameri-
cans asked no quarter and gave none. Pikes, axes
and cutlasses were the weapons no room for pistols
and step by step Decatur and his men swept the deck.

Looking up from his 'own victory, he rejoiced at
sight of gallant Trippe in possession of another gun-
boat, but anxiety seized him as he saw the craft com-
manded by his brother, James, coming slowly away
from its grapple* All too soon an officer called the
tragic news across the bloody water. Deceived by a
feigned surrender, James had been shot through
the head by the Turkish captain as he stepped on
board.

It was as though the heart had been torn from
Decatur 's breast. James, the apple of his eye, Ms
mother ? s ewe lamb that she had put in his care 1 There
in the distance laughed the assassin, and with a shout
that was half sob, Decatur ordered pursuit. What
mattered it that the bulk of the crew were on the prize,
leaving only ten men at his side?

The murderer, without attempt to hold his ground,
retreated to the harbor and the protection of the
batteries, but Decatur swept on nor halted until he
felt the shock of the collision. Gaining the enemy's
deck in one tigerish bound, closely followed by Mac-
Donongh and the gallant ten, he cut a way through the

[95]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

press of bodies until he stood face to face with the
treacherous captain who had shot his brother down.

The Turk, a giant of a man, cut savagely with the
boarding pike that he wielded as a broadsword, and
Decatur, trying to sever the blade from the shaft,
snapped his own cutlass at the hilt. Always swift in
action as in decisions, he took the second thrust in
the side, snapped the pike between arm and body, and
gripping the Turk about the waist, back-heeled him
for a heavy fall. An Arab, thrown free of the bloody
whirl by some convulsion of the struggle, saw the
plight of his commander, and aimed a fierce blow at
Decatnr's bared head with his yataghan.

Now steps forward Reuben James, humble seaman,
to take his place among the heroes of the world.
Brought to his knees by many gaping wounds, unable
to lift his hacked arms, through the haze of his agony
he saw the bright blade of the simitar started on the
deadly downward stroke. Eising by a mighty effort,
he managed to throw himself across Decatur ? s
shoulders, offering his own devoted head to the blow
that bit through hair and bone.*

Exerting superior strength, the Turk heaved loose
and brought Decatur underneath. His left hand hold-
ing the throat, his right reached for the dagger in his
sash. Eoaring like some jungle beast at the moment
of the kill, he raised the blade, but Decatur 's steel
fingers caught the wrist as it drove down. Only now
did he remember the pistol that was in the pocket of
his loose pantaloons. There was no time to draw and
aim; blindly he groped for the trigger, cocked it, and

*Reuben James, glory be, reeorered in due time, and when asked to
name his own reward, scratched his scarred head and bashfully mur-
mured, "If it's all the same to you, Gap'n, let somebody else give out
the hammieks. It's a business I don't like."

[96]

HOUND OF THE HEATHEN"

with, a last despairing twist, shot through the cloth.
The grip at his throat relaxed, the dagger dropped
from a hand gone limp, and once again Decatur was
on his feet.

The spectacle of that bloodsoaked figure, come
from the dead, struck terror to the Tripolitans, even
as it gave new inspiration to the Americans, and soon
they trod a deck deserted by all save the dead and
dying.

High and higher blazed the courage of Decatur and
those he led. Three times within the week American
gunboats and bombards went into the harbor for mid-
night attacks, drenching the town with grape and
cannister until its demoralized inhabitants fled into the
desert. Still the stone walls held and still the
Bashaw would not sue for peace, knowing that the
season of storms was near at hand. Again Decatur ? s
thought turned to the little Intrepid' and he suggested
its use as a fire ship for the destruction of the Castle
and the harbor shipping.

Ardent Somers begged command, and that this
beloved friend, the comrade of his heart, might have
his chance for glory, Decatur stepped aside. One
hundred and fifty barrels of powder and a hundred
bombs were packed in the ketch, all connected with
fifteen minute fuses. Ten volunteers went with
Somers, and two of the fastest rowboats in the fleet
were towed along to bring them back if they came
back.

As darkness fell the Intrepid moved stealthily to
the harbor mouth, following the path first blazed by
Decatur. Every heart waited in sick suspense, for
all knew Somers knew his courage and resolution
knew that he would choose death to failure. Suddenly
the roar of the land batteries told of his discovery, and

[97]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

suddenly the midnight sky blazed redly as an appall-
ing explosion shook fleet and city. All the sad night
through, boats hovered about the harbor month,
praying that some survivor might come out of the
monstrous blackness, but none returned, then or ever.

Somers, sighted long before he reached the desired
spot, found himself surrounded by enemy craft* Sur-
render meant handing over the valuable store of
powder and bombs new prisoners for the dungeons
and without hesitation he lighted the fuses, blowing
himself and his men to eternity together with the
Tripolitan gunboats that swarmed for the capture.

Yet Somers and his men did not die in vain. The
Bashaw, already stunned by Decatur's daring, was
moved to a passionate desire for peace by this new
evidence of American courage, and in time, a treaty
was signed*

News of the exploits, carried up and down the
Barbary coast, moved the corsairs to humility, and
when Tunis, Morocco, and Algiers followed the Ba-
shaw's intelligent example, it was in pride and glory
that our ships returned to port.

Short-lived glory! Ephemeral pride! With the
fatuity that Hamilton saw in him and hated, Jefferson
dismantled the navy and turned our unprotected com-
merce over to the ravages of warring France and
England. Each forbade neutral nations to trade with
the other under threat of seizure and confiscation, and
Jefferson's only answer was an embargo, keeping our
ships in port and surrendering an export business of
two hundred and fifty million dollars a year.

Jefferson, casting off unhappy burdens with un-
disguised relief, was succeeded by Madison, even more
timorous, but by 1812 the mounting rage of the
country forced him to draw the sword.

[98]

HOUND OF THE HEATHEN

The hearts of humiliated sailormen, however, rose
only to sink again, for the American Navy, with which
they were expected to wage war against the great sea
power of the world, consisted of five frigates, three
brigs, three sloops and fonr schooners.

Decatur, with his usual clear-eyed courage,
pointed out the impossibility of fighting as a squadron,
and carried his idea that each ship should take to the
sea singly, dealing such blows as they might until
capture or destruction. Sailing the sea lanes in the
United States, he rounded Madeira in October to find
himself confronted by the Macedonian, finest of all
British frigates.

Not in vain had Decatur trained his men through
the weary months ; their seamanship dazed the English,
and their unerring gunnery turned the Macedonian
into a shambles.

No less splendid was brave Isaac Hull's capture of
the Guerriere, and slowly every American port filled
with prizes, some compensation for many shameful
defeats on land. Massing her squadrons, however,
England barred the harbor mouths, penning the free
lances hard and fast, and when Deeatur did break
loose, disaster attended. Slipping out of New York
on the President in a night of snow and storm, a pilot's
blunder put the ship on a bar off Sandy Hook.

Aside from injuries sustained, the delay proved
costly, for dawn revealed four of the British blockad-
ing squadron, and flight was the one recourse.

All day the chase continued, but by late afternoon
only the frigate Endymion was in sight, and Decatur
swiftly turned his battered ship to give battle.

At eight o'clock the Endymion confessed defeat,
drawing off from action, but the dismasted, wallowing
President was in scarce better condition. Darkness

[99]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

was the one hope, but a full moon scattered the clouds,
and soon the belated British ships came hurrying up,
forming a ring of double-shotted guns. Seeing the
futility of further resistance a crippled vessel and
half of his officers and gunners killed Decatur sig-
naled surrender. Even while they fought, peace had
been signed in London.

Decatur *s war career, however, was not doomed to
end on such a note. The Barbary pirates, instigated
by England, who assured them that America was no
longer to be feared, broke their treaties early in the
war, and were once more scourging the sea lanes. At
the head of a squadron, Decatur sailed for the Bar-
bary Coast in May, 1815, whipped Eais Hammida, the
Algerine Grand Admiral, in a decisive battle, swept on
to Algiers and forced the Dey to full reparation and
an ironbound treaty.

The Bey of Tunis, secure behind impregnable de-
fenses, tended his flowing beard with a tortoise shell
comb set in diamonds, but when they told him it was
Decatur, the beard lost importance and his capitula-
tion was abject. Nor had Tripoli forgotten. Dungeons
opened. "Give me every Christian captive," cried
Decatur; and as he sailed to restore the poor wretches
to their homes, the power of the Barbary pirates
crushed, Europe hailed him as "the Bayard of the
Seas/' the "Champion of Christendom."

Loved and honored by his country as no man since
Washington, happy in the devotion of a beautiful wife,
Decatur settled down to a life of peace and repose- But
almost on the instant a cloud came to shut him off
from the sun. Back from Europe came Commodore
James Barron, that commander of the Chesepeake who
had been suspended in 1807 for having failed to fight
his sMp when insulted and attacked by H. M S

[100J

HOUND OF THE HEATHEN

Leopard. The suspension expired in 1813, but lie had
not returned to serve his country during the war, and
now that he asked to re-enter the navy, Decatur op-
posed with all the force of his virile personality.

Decatur ? s stand was open, explicit and impersonal,
taken as a high officer of the navy, but Barron chose
to resent it as a direct insult.

Decatur had served under him as a lieutenant by
this former junior ? s height he measured the depths to
which he himself had fallen and out of his bitterness
and despair, the broken man came to an almost
maniacal hatred. A lengthy correspondence took
place, quriously paralleling that between Aaron Burr
and Alexander Hamilton. Like Burr, Barron pursued
implacably. Like Hamilton, Decatur viewed dueling
as a barbarism that settled nothing, yet gave it full
obedience as part of the established social code. The
two men met at last at Bladensburg, near Washington,
and Decatur, so invincibly the Bayard, sacrificed every
advantage that he might have taken.

"I do not desire his life," he had said to Bain-
bridge. "I mean to shoot him in the hip."

The two reports rang out as one; Barron fell with
a ball through his right thigh; his bullet ripped De-
catur 's abdomen. The great Commodore had seen
death too often to be afraid of it or not to know it.

"I am a dying man," he said simply, " Would
that I had fallen in defense of my country."

[101]

IX

THE PATH OF EMPIBE

FATE, that incurable romanticist, never staged a
more dramatic effect than when she yoked the mighty
Corsican and a humble Shoshone squaw in the service
of America's destiny. Napoleon forced us to make the
Louisiana Purchase, and Saeajawea, the Bird Woman,
helped to write our title to the Oregon territory in the
blood that dripped from her rock-torn feet.

Few historians sing the glory of this obscure
Indian girl, yet with a two-months-old baby at her
breast she led Lewis and Clarke up the wild reaches
of the Missouri and over saw-toothed ranges; when
the white captains wandered hopelessly amid enor-
mities of granite her unerring instinct found a way;
when hostile Indians gathered to dispute the march of
the staggering band, it was Sacajawea that trudged
forward, holding her papoose high in token of peace
and friendship; at a time when starvation threatened
she took from tattered buckskins the store of food she
had saved from her own pitiful ration.

The bond between Napoleon and the Bird Woman
was forged on an April morning in 1803 when "Robert
Livingston and James Monroe faced France's min-
isters and offered two million dollars for New Orleans
and West Florida that the United States might control
the Mississippi's mouth. Even as they bargained the
First Consul intervened with one of his characteristic
bursts of decision.

[102]

THE PATH OF EMPIRE

"It is the whole of Louisiana you must buy," he
said. "That or nothing."

On the verge of war with England, he knew that
he could not expect to hold his American possessions
against the power of Great Britain's navy; far better
to sell them, gaining much needed funds and at the
same time strengthening a friendly nation. Living-
ston and Monroe, acting entirely on their own respon-
sibility, made the purchase, paying fifteen million
dollars for the vast stretch out of which we have
carved Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, North
and South Dakota, Oklahoma, Minnesota and nearly
all of Louisiana, Kansas, Wyoming, Montana and
Colorado.

The scene changes from the Tuilleries to an Indian
village on the banks of the Missouri in what is now
North Dakota. The Minnetarees, sweeping across the
Montana plains some five years before, had killed and
raided most successfully, and among the captives car-
ried home was a little Shoshone girl. Well was she
named Sacajawea, the Bird Woman soft and round
and sweet-voiced as any thrush and Tousaint Char-
bonneau, a French trapper, bought her for a wife.
Thus was her life whirled about in order to play its
part in the great American drama.

To this village, in the fall of 1804, came Meriwether
Lewis and William Clark, leading an expedition for
the exploration of the unknown land. One was Thomas
Jefferson's private secretary and the other a worthy
brother of George Eogers Clark, and the forty-three
men in their company had been picked for youth,
strength and proved courage. They had set out from
the Mississippi in May, as careless of hardship as of
danger; poling and towing their three small boats
against the Missouri's current, depending on their

[103]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

rifles for their food, gay and confident as though they
sailed a summer lake instead of entering a strange
and menacing country thick with peril.

Kaws, Otoes, Missouris, Sioux and Eickaras these
Indians had let them pass in peace, either won by
presents or cowed by the shaggy young pathfinders
and now Mandans, Abnahaways and Minnetarees held
ont the hand of friendship. Winter quarters were
pitched in a great cottonwood grove, warm huts built;
buffalo humps and juicy elk steaks repaired the
ravages of the one-thousand-six-hundred-mile river
journey, and spring's coming found every man fat and
strong as herd bulls* Thirteen went back to civiliza-
tion from the Mandan villages, taking a boatload of
specimens, trophies and various exhibits, but the addi-
tion of Sacajawea more than compensated for the loss.

Neither captain had prescience that she would
prove their salvation time and again and that to the
Bird Woman, more than all others, they would owe
their chance to sail down the broad Columbia to the
Pacific, carving their names in the marble of history.
When Charbonneau, hired as an interpreter, an-
nounced that he meant to take his wife, Lewis and
Clark feared that she could not stand the journey, so
frail she seemed, and with a mite of a baby pulling at
her breasts. Yet when steel-framed frontiersmen sank
down in utter exhaustion, it was to be Sacajawea that
would carry on.

The plains were thick with buffalo and elk, and
great fish leaped high above the water as the path-
finders set forth again, eager for sight of the Shining
Mountains that lay before them. Bowing sometimes,
but poling and towing for the most part, they passed
the Bad Lands, went by the mouth of the Yellowstone
and came to a river that they called the Milk because

[104]

TEE PATH OF EMPIEE

of its white flow. With tlie rare good fortune that was
to mark the expedition, not an Indian was seen, but
grizzly bears prevented anything approaching bore-
dom.

Hunters, walking the banks, took wild dives into
the river to escape the ferocious beasts; the monsters
attacked the night camps ^and even swam out to charge
the boats, and such was their strength that one huge
brute had eight balls through his body before falling
dead at Lewis' very feet. Storms were no less a men-
ace, flinging the little canoes like chips, and in one
squall all the medical supplies would have been lost
but for Sacajawea's courage and quickness.

They were now in a land that not even the most
daring trapper had ever visited, and each new day
increased their difficulties. The many forks of the
river, the size of the tributary streams, brought doubts
as to their course, and forced wearisome, dangerous
explorations. Portages became more and mote fre-
quent, and as the men toiled over rocky stretches their
way was thick with hissing, striking rattlesnakes. In
one crowded day Lewis was charged by buffalo bulls
in the forenoon, chased by a grizzly in the afternoon,
only escaping by a leap into the river, and then waked
the next morning to find a rattler coiled at his head.

Not until Lewis, scouting alone, came to the Great
Falls on. June thirteenth was he certain that they had
held to the true Missouri. A great cheer must have
burst from the voyageurs as they saw the long sweep
of majestic cascades, but their admiration was short-
lived, for a seventeen-mile portage had to be made.
Rude frames, mounted on wheels cut from tree
trunks, eased the burden of the canoes in some degree,
but each of the thirteen days was still a horror of
drudgery and suffering.

[105]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Even as the naked, sweating men fainted under a
burning sun, a sudden storm would scourge them with
hailstones ; the prickly pears tore their feet into bleed-
ing ribbons; every thicket seemed to vomit roaring
grizzlies and as they trudged a dry creek bed some
cloudburst would turn it into a mill race. Once Saca-
jawea, encumbered by her baby, was saved from death
by Clark's strong hand, the water tearing at her waist
as he dragged her to a higher shelf.

Building additional canoes, the journey was re-
sumed, every mile a fiercer fight against rocks and
whirlpools; on through the Gates of the Rockies, that
Cyclopean gorge where the Missouri tears its way
through the mountain wall, pole and towline now in
constant use. The men at the ropes could not walk
the banks, covered by dense thickets, and stumbled
along in the water, slipping, falling. Although they
did not know it, their weary feet kicked shining gold,
for fifty years later more than one hundred and fifty
million dollars was taken from this very stretch of
stream.

All were more dead than alive when they reached
the Three Forks, where the Jefferson, Madison and
Gallatin (so named by Lewis and Clark) unite to form
the Missouri. Here it was that Sacajawea had been
captured by the Minnetarees, and here too was the
hunting ground not only of the Shoshones, but also of
the Crows, the Matheads and the savage Blackfeet
Which tribe would be the first to see them, and what
would be its attitude? These were tremendous ques-
tions, heavy with life and death, for everything
depended upon Indian friendship. Canoes were no
longer to be relied upon; they must have horses for the
conquest of the mountains that rose before them;
more than that, they stood in need of guides and f cod,

[106]

TEE PATH OF EMPIRE

Lewis, taking command of a vanguard, swung
wide and wider circles in desperate search of Indians,
fiercely eager to put an end to suspense, but it was not
until August thirteenth, far up the Jefferson, that he
came face to face with a hunting party. With the
expedition's usual amazing luck, it was Shoshones
that he met up with, not Blackfeet. Even so, the
Indians were suspicious rather than friendly, and not
until Clark arrived with the rest of the party did Lewis
know whether it was to be peace or war. Sacajawea
ended uncertainty, for Cameahwait, the Shoshone
chief, proved to be her brother, and she soon inspired
him with her own devotion to the white men.

It was this one turn of fortune that decided the fate
of the Lewis and Clark adventure. The Shoshones
gave them food and horses, without which the starving,
footsore men would have had to confess defeat aid
that would not have been forthcoming but for the Bird
"Woman. And as the expedition reached the Bitterroot
Valley staggering with exhaustion it was Sacaja-
wea that gained the friendship of the Flatheads.
More horses were secured from these Indians, and
on September eleventh, the two captains were face to
face with the stark menace of the Bitterroot Eange.

Not in all the annals of human fortitude is there a
more inspiring record than this mountain march of
Lewis and Clark. Storms beat upon them, and the
cold froze to the marrow; now they crawled sheer cliff
sides, sinking their bleeding fingers into crevices, and
now they climbed savage peaks where a false step
meant death; they ate half -cooked horse meat;
dysentery weakened them ; there were times when they
gave themselves up as lost, and when they came at
last to the plains it was with the sobbing relief of men
who wake from some ghastly nightmare.

1107]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Nez Perces were camped in the pleasant Kamas
prairie, and soft-voiced Sacajawea convinced them
that the white men came as friends. As though they
were blood brothers, the Indians fed and nursed the
vomiting, emaciated Americans and guided them to the
Clearwater that offered plain way to the Pacific. Eude
canoes were fashioned, and on October seventh the
pathfinders began the last leg of their long journey.
They were soon to find that all was not the easy sailing
that had been imagined, for frequent portages took
heavy toll of strength, and the utter absence of game
forced them to live on dogs that they bought from
Indian tribes along the shore.

From the falls to the Dalles, the Columbia boils
through a vast lava bed, frowning palisades narrowing
the river and great fragments blocking and torment-
ing the channel. A long, hard portage won past the
falls, but cliffs made this impossible at the Dalles, and
with despairing bravery the captains gave their canoes
to the rapids, "notwithstanding the horrid appearance
of this agitated gut, swelling, boiling and whirling in
every direction." The Indians, gathering to watch
what seemed madness, gave a shout as the last boat
reached smooth water in safety, greeting it as a sign
that the white men were in the care of some Great
Spirit. Another drudging portage past the Cascades,
and at last the voyageurs were on the full bosom of
the mighty stream.

Entering the river *s mouth, sea winds and waves
tossed the frail canoes until it seemed that all must
perish; for sis days they huddled in the rain wait-
ing to round a point, and it was not until November
fifteenth that they rowed past the future site of Astoria
and, after further wandering, pitched their winter
quarters on a cliff among the pines. Well were they

[108]

TEE PATH OF EMPIRE

entitled to rest their weary bones after a journey of
4,135 miles, the Homeric march that opened the half
of a continent to settlement and added two stars to the
flag. Captain Robert Gray had discovered the Colum-
bia in 1792, naming it after his ship, but it was Lewis
and Clark's explorations that confirmed our title to
the territory out of which we shaped Washington and
Oregon. Saeajawea. to whom so much of the credit
was due, asked but one favor; she begged to be taken
down to the ocean shore that she might see the great
"Everywhere-Salt-Water. ' 9

Instead of rest, however, drudgery and suffering
pressed still more heavily on the expedition. The rain
came down in torrents; game spoiled before the ex-
hausted hunters could get it back to camp ; salt boiling
was a slow, laborious process, and by the time the two
captains finished their various scientific observations
in late March, the sickening men were without food
and also stripped bare of everything that could be
used in barter. Captain Lewis parted with his uni-
form coat to secure a necessary canoe, and as the
company started on its homeward journey they re-
sembled traveling mountebanks more than the heroic
vanguard of civilization. Clark performed with a
burning glass in payment for nutritious roots, and
Lewis vended "eye water " and a magic ointment, tak-
ing his fees in edible dogs.

Slowly, wretchedly, they ascended the Columbia,
portaging past cascades, Dalles and falls, and in May
came again to the lovely Kamas plain where old Chief
Twisted Hair and his Nez Perces waited with their
horses. June found the expedition aflame with im-
patience and, despite the warning of the Indians, the
pathfinders marched away to the pass that led across
the Bitterroot Range. All too late they realized that

[109]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Twisted Hair had been right : snow choked the trails,
storms froze and blinded them, and it was only " Lewis
and Clark luck" that let them regain the shelter of
the Nez Perce camp instead of perishing in the moun-
tains. Even when they set out again, the snow was
still deep enough to make every mile a peril, but at
last they crossed over and stumbled down into the
Missoula plain.

Here the expedition made its first important divi-
sion; for time pressed and there was still much to
do. Lewis, with nine men, was to strike out on a
straight line for the Great Falls of the Missouri, pro-
ceeding from that point to the headwaters of Maria's
River. Clark and his party were to go down the Jef-
ferson to the Three Forks and then on to the Yellow-
stone for an exploration of that unknown stream.

Lewis, crossing the Divide, reached the Great Falls
without mishap and, leaving six men to prepare the
portage, started up Maria's Eiver with only Drewyer
and the two Fields brothers. Through a barren land,
thick with savages, the four rode on eating the grease
pressed from tainted meat only turning back at a
point not far below the present Canadian line. Now
luck deserted them, for out of the hills rode a war
party of Blackf eet, cruel and treacherous. There was
much specious talk all day and long into the night,
but the white men were not thrown off their guard, and
when the Indians snatched at their rifles in the early
dawn, indomitable Reuben Fields stabbed one to the
heart and Lewis shot another through the belly.

The Blackf eet fled to summon the rest of the tribe,
and Lewis and his men, leaping to their horses, rode
for their lives. Halting only when sheer exhaustion
commanded, they covered one hundred and twelve
miles in twenty-four hours, and, joining the portage

[HO]

THE PATE OF EMPIRE

party, were off down the Missouri that very day.
They reached the Yellowstone on August seventh, but
while waiting for Clark, near-sighted Cmzatte put a
ball in Lewis' hip, mistaking him for an elk. How-
ever, lint was pushed into the hole and a "poultice of
Peruvian bark" ended what was a trifling matter to
those men of iron.

Clark's journey was without dramatic incident.
Guided by the unfailing Sacajawea, he crossed the
Great Divide, followed the Jefferson to the Three
Forks, and with the silent little Bird Woman still lead-
ing, climbed over the pass to which Bozeman's name
has been unjustly given, and came to the Yellowstone*
At his right hand, within easy distance, were all those
wonders now embraced in the National Park, but he
did not turn, and the glory of that discovery was left
to humble John Colter.

Colter, a wild KentucMan, pupil of Boone and
Kenton, fell in love with the Montana country and,
when the Mandan villages were reached, took the back
trail despite the remonstrances of his captains. Trap-
ping the wilderness streams with as much unconcern
as though he walked a city street, he followed the
Yellowstone to its headwaters, and was the first white
man to rest startled eyes on that region of marvels.
Again, while wandering with another rover by the
name of Potts, the incredible Colter figured in a tre-
mendous adventure that lias all the color and appeal
pf some Norse saga.

As they pushed their canoe along a fork of the
Jefferson, Blackfeet swarmed on the cliffs above them
and gave the sign to pull to shore. Seeing the im-
possibility of resistance, Colter stepped out and
surrendered, but Potts, preferring death to torture,
fired Ms rifle into the huddle of Indians. On the in-

[111]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

stant a flight of arrows pierced him "he was made
a riddle of," reported Colter and the stream took
his body*

The Blackfeet, stripping Colter to the skin, were
first minded to make him a target for their archery,
but one chief insisted that better sport could be ob-
tained by a chase. The captive was asked whether
he could run, and Colter, with quick cunning, answered
that he was a person entirely without swiftness and
would much prefer to be shot at once rather than
raced down like a crippled prairie wolf. Completely
deceived, the gullible chief gave him a fair start on
the broad plain, and at a signal the warriors sprang
in pursuit.

As a matter of fact Colter had the speed of a deer,
and love of life put wings to Ms feet. Six miles away
were the wooded banks of the Jefferson, and he headed
for this covert at a pace that dismayed the Indians.
Prickly pears tore his feet, but at the end of the
fourth mile he had distanced the baying pack except
for one swift warrior who gained at every leap. Exert-
ing himself to more furious effort, the panting fugitive
burst a blood vessel and, feeling that the end had come,
turned that he might meet death face to face. The
Indian, no less exhausted, tripped as he threw his
spear and Colter, snatching the weapon from the
ground, drove it home to the redskin's heart.

Plunging on in obedience to some blind instinct a
staggering, crimson figure he managed to reach the
timber ahead of pursuit, and fell into the water, A
beaver dam was near at hand, and with one last shud-
dering spurt he swam, to its blessed concealment.
Burying himself in the deepest part, only the tip of
Ms nose exposed, he hid the long day through, the icy
stream freezing Ms very bones, and not until darkness

[112]

TEE PATH OF EMPIRE

fell was lie able to make Ms escape. Naked, bloodless,
and with only roots to feed upon, Colter still refused
to die, and after seven terrible days crawled into
Lisa's station at the junction of the Bighorn and the
Yellowstone a corpse but for his indomitable eyes.

Clark, never dreaming of the great chance that he
was missing, rode along the banks of the Yellowstone
to where Billings now stands, and at this point he
found trees enough to fashion two canoes.

The party came to the Missouri on August twelfth,
and the plains rang to the joyous shout of men who
had feared that they might not see each other again.
Even the sick forgot their " biles and tumors" as the
reunited band shot downstream, perils and hardship
over and rich rewards to come.

At the Mandan villages, a pinprick in the vast
prairies, they said good-by to Sacajawea and her
papoose, standing lonely on the river bluff as the
boats pushed out into the Missouri once again. Poor
little Bird Woman! They did not leave her so much
as a bead in token of common dangers and shared
struggles. Joyously, triumphantly, the pathfinders
sailed away to be petted and adored by a grateful
people ; Sacajawea remained in a strange land, among
alien folk, with only memories to warm her lonely
heart.

[113]

THE BELOVED GENIUS

THE sunken road of Ohain was not the greatest of
Napoleon's blunders. Twice before Waterloo the
dominion of the world was in his grasp, and twice he
turned away. Eobert Fulton offered him the sub-
marine and torpedo, products of his inventive genius,
and when these were rejected, came once again with
the idea of operating boats by steam.

There is still in existence a quaint lithograph that
shows the tall American, standing face to face with
the Little Corporal, saying, " Great Man, if you will
give me your support to put these plans into execu-
tion, you can have the most powerful navy in the
world. "

Fulton's lack of French must have been the trou-
ble, for the Napolaon episode stands as his one failure
in captivation. This son of a humble Irish immigrant,
reared in a shabby Pennsylvania village, had all the
beauty of a Greek god, and walked among men with
larger distinction than any prince of the blood. No
less than William Pitt and Thomas Jefferson were
won to Fulton's will by the sheer magic of his per-
sonality, and Talleyrand, after talking with him, was
almost moved to tears that one so delightful should be
"quite mad." High and low alike felt the compulsion
of his unquenchable enthusiasm and succumbed to his
infinite charm.

At the age of seventeen come from Lancaster to

THE BELOVED GENIUS

be a miniature painter in Philadelphia we find young
Fulton fathered by wise old Benjamin Franklin, and
at twenty-one we see him in London, the protege of
Benjamin West, that great Quaker whose first brushes
were made of hairs pulled from a cat's tail. Sir
Joshua Reynolds and all the famous artists of the day
took interest in the brilliant youth.

But at the hour when his pictures are hung in the
Royal Academy, and when rich patrons gather to
assure his future, lo and behold, he throws down his
palette, and flings himself headlong into science and
invention I

The Duke of Bridgewater and Lord Stanhope give
him friendship and faith, and as ideas tumble over one
another in his fertile mind, he invents a machine for
sawing marble, another for spinning flax, and plans a
thousand improvements in the building of aqueducts,
bridges and canals, Samuel Taylor Coleridge sits at
his feet, entranced, and Robert Owen, that great
English social reformer who was to attempt Utopias
*ji the United States, financed the irresistible Ameri-
can while he worked on a dredging machine that was
to "make millions. 5 *

Unhappily, Christmas of 1796 found Fulton "re-
duced to half a crown/' which, as he frankly stated in
an appeal to Lord Stanhope, was indeed "an awkward
sensation to a feeling Mind, which would devote every
minute to Increase the Comforts of Mankind and Who
on Looking Round, sees thousands nursed in the Lap
of Fortune, grown to maturity, and now spending
their Time in the endless Maze of idle dissipation."

Receiving the desired loan, he rebounds to the
heights of optimism, and within a few weeks we find
him writing to George Washington, excitedly outlining
plans for a canal from Philadelphia to Lake Erie, re-

[115]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

fusing to consider profits less than a half million a
year.

More and more the development of inland water-
ways obsessed him, and in 1797 he crossed the channel,
afire with the idea of creating a canal system for
France. On board the boat was the Duehesse de
Gontaut, a great lady who was slipping back to Paris
under an assumed name. At Calais she was arrested
on suspicion of being a rich emigres, and Fulton,
distressed by her danger, rushed into the breach with
the generous impetuosity that ever made him so dear
and lovable. As the wife of an American citizen she
ran no risk, so bowing low, he begged her hand in
marriage. As it happened, however, the Duehesse had
a husband already, but it was not until powerful
friends came to the rescue that Fulton went his gay,
optimistic way.

Arriving in Paris, Joel Barlow, the American
patriot poet, whose Vision of Columbus had won
much fame, took Fulton to Ms heart and home, and
stormed the Tuilleries in his behalf. The Directory,
however, fighting for its existence, was in no mood to
talk of canals, and once again Fulton knew the
"awkward sensation" of having nothing in his pockets
but his hands. With his usual gay fertility of re-
source, he invented a machine for twisting rope, and
when this did not fill his purse, worked out careful
plans for a submarine boat and torpedoes.

Peace, not war, was his aim, for with all his heart
he believed that his inventions would put an end to
military navies, leaving the sea lanes open to the free
and orderly commerce of the world. Again the
Directory dismissed firm as a nuisance, whereupon
Fulton reaching for his neglected brushes, painted a
lurid panorama that was the delight of Paris for

[116]

THE BELOVED GENIUS

fifteen years. With money at Ms command, lie lost no
time in building Ms beloved submarine, and August,
1801, found Mm in tlie basin at Havre.

The Nautilus, as Fulton called Ms boat, was a
cockleshell twenty feet long and five feet wide, yet in
this frail craft, absolutely unproved, the daring in-
ventor sank beneath the surface and cruised about the
ocean bed. Not only did he dive time and again, but
once he voyaged seventy miles searching for English
war ships upon which to try his torpedoes. As a con-
sequence, Monge, the mathematician, and La Place, the
astronomer, carried Fulton directly to Napoleon, and
eventually ten thousand francs were authorized for
further experiments at Brest in 1801.

Day after day the Nautilus submerged successfully,
nor were the demonstrations with the torpedo any less
convincing. The government placed a small sloop at
Fulton's disposal, and sinking down to a depth of
twenty-five feet, he loosed a torpedo that blew the
craft into atoms "causing so great a concussion," re-
ported the inventor, "that a column of Water, Smoke
and fibres of the sloop were cast from eighty to one
hundred feet in air." The committee, whether lack-
ing vision themselves, or influenced by the bitter
feeling of seamen against a "barbarous method of
warfare," reported adversely, and the first of
Napoleon's opportunities was lost.

As far back as his London days, Fulton had given
much time and thought to the problem of steam
navigation, and it was to tMs idea that he turned after
Ms cruel disappointment with the Nautilus, fiercely
determined to capture success. His way was tMck
with broken hearts and shattered dreams, for ever
since James "Watt's perfection of the steam engine,
men had labored to link the idea to the propulsion of

[117]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

water craft. Strangely enough, tliree that had come
close to the goal were Americans.

William Henry, a Lancaster gunsmith, launched
a steamboat on Conestoga Creek in 1763, and went to
his grave with the laughter of fools ringing in his
ears. James Rumsey ran one on the Potomac in
1784: with George Washington as an interested on-
looker, and failing to gain financial support in the
United States, went to London where he died of heart-
break after months of rebuff. John Fitch, by 1790,
had a steamboat plying between Philadelphia and
Trenton, but Americans refused to take the invention
seriously, and French bankers were equally derisive.
Journeying home again, working his way before the
mast, he wandered about in rags, vainly begging sup-
port, and finally killed himself as an escape from
wretchedness.

No whit depressed by this dreary record of failure,
Fulton set to work with his usual fiery enthusiasm,
fashioning toy models, a watch spring his engine and
a pond his ocean. And between times, out of the love
in his heart, he worked on a series of great drawings
for Barlow's Colwmbiad, intending to have the epic
published sumptuously out of the millions that his
steamboat would earn. His experiments drained him
of such money as had not been taken by the Nautilus,
but even as poverty cramped his energy, Eobert E.
Livingstone came to France as America's minister
plenipotentiary.

Paris adored trim even as it had adored Benjamin
Franklin, for never was there a more gallant gentle-
man. Brilliant member of the rich and powerful
New York family, he had been one of the committee
that drafted the Declaration of Independence as
chancellor of the state he had administered the first

[118]

TEE BELOVED GENIUS

presidential oath to "Washington and lite Fulton, lie
combined genius "with, rare personal charm. Living-
stone himself had given years to the study of steam
navigation, careless of derision, and on meeting Ful-
ton, he gave him faith as well as friendship. In
October, 1802, a partnership was formed, Livingstone
advancing two thousand five hundred dollars, and as
optimist inflamed optimist, they saw the rivers of the
United States thick with steamboats.

For a dark moment it seemed as though Fulton
were doomed to the despair that had engulfed Henry,
Fitch and Rumsey. When the boat was completed,
and on the very morning of its trial, the light hull
broke under the machinery's weight, dropping the
engine down to the river bed. For days, while Paris
screamed with laughter, Fulton worked waist deep in
the icy waters of the Seine, and finally the small craft
rode the waves again. On August 9, 1803, in the
presence of a vast assemblage, and with Mrs* Barlow
praying for "poor, dear Toot V success, the son of
the Irish immigrant made his dream come true. For
an hour and a half he moved up and down the river,
the two paddle wheels churning the water at a furious
rate, and his hired engine chugging nobly.

Napoleon, out of Paris at the time, had heard of
Fulton's experiments, and wrote to the Department
of Marine in July, saying, "The project of Citizen
Fulton may change the face of the world. I desire yon
immediately to confide its examination to a commis-
sion of members chosen from among the different
classes of the Institute. Try and let the whole matter
be determined within a week, as I am impatient/*

At that time he was preparing to renew his strug-
gle for the mastery of the seas and the conquest of
India tremendous ambitions that rested entirely

[119]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

upon the creation of an invincible navy. Fulton's in-
vention promised this invincibility, but scholar fools
derided it, declaring that the motive power "was so
feeble that a child's toy could hardly be put in motion
by it."

Strangely enough, conservative England had the
vision that France lacked, and secret messengers from
London begged Fulton to cross the channel with his
inventions. Accepting the invitation, lie reached
London on May 19, 1804, just seven days after the
declaration of war between France and England,

Pitt, a genius himself, knew genius when he saw
it, and from their first meeting he gave Fulton his
confidence and belief, entering into a signed contract
for the perfection of his submarine and torpedoes.
Emphasis was put on these inventions for the reason
that a great French fleet gathered at Boulogne for the
invasion of England.

Fulton, who had come to regard Napoleon as a
despot whose mad ambitions menaced the world,
plunged into plans for the destruction of the French
ships, but as at Brest, he ran against the bitter an-
tagonism of sailormen. The Lords of the Admiralty,
loathing Ms inventions, refused to consider the
submarine, and gave half-hearted aid in the matter of
the torpedoes. Twice Fulton went into the harbor at
Boulogne with his catamarans, and each time he was
justified in blaming failure upon the manner in which
attacks were handled.

A year passed, during which the inventor was
left to cool his heels, and then an impassioned letter
to Pitt forced the Admiralty into new action. An-
other attack on Boulogne failed miserably, and
Fulton, desperate by now, begged the gift of some
hulk that he might make a demonstration under Pitt's

[120]

THE BELOVED GENIUS

own eyes, proving that the fault was not in the tor-
pedoes. Consent was given, and in Walmar Roads,
with a clockwork torpedo containing one hundred and
seventy pounds of powder, Fulton blew up a brig of
two hundred tons.

Even as the inventor raised his humiliated head,
the Earl of St. Vincent declared the general military
sentiment when he told Fulton that "Pitt was the
greatest fool that ever existed, to encourage a mode of
war which those who commanded the sea did not
want, and which, if successful, would deprive them
of it." The Ministry, overborne, offered the Ameri-
can a fortune if he would consent to destroy his plans
and think no more about them, but Fulton answered,
"It has never been my intention to hide these inven-
tions from the world on any consideration. On the
contrary, it has ever been my intention to make them
public as soon as may be consistent with strict justice
to all with whom I am concerned. For myself, I have
ever considered the interest of America, free com-
merce, the interest of mankind superior to all calcula-
tions of a pecuniary nature. "

The British dealt generously with Fulton, never-
theless, allowing him seventy-five thousand dollars for
salary and expenses, and out of this amount the
warm-hearted genius spent five thousand dollars for
the publication of Barlow's Columbiad, and bought
two of Benjamin West's finest paintings to serve as
the nucleus for a gallery of Fine Arts in Philadelphia.
This done, he completed arrangements for the ship-
ment of an engine from James Watt's factory for his
new steamboat, and landed in New York in December,
1806, after an absence of twenty years from his native
land.

One thing alone was never sufficient to occupy

[121]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

mind of this amazing man. Even as lie directed the
building of the Clermowt, named after Livingstone's
country seat, Fulton raced to Washington and cap-
tivated Jefferson and Madison, later winning five
thousand dollars from the government treasury for
new experiments with, his torpedoes. At the same
time he poured forth letters and pamphlets begging
the United States to realize the value of a great sys-
tem of canals, and preached the gospel of free seas
and free trade.

As the Clermont neared completion, he was
harassed and thwarted by a lack of money* His own
funds were exhausted, Livingstone, land poor, had
reached the end of his cash resources, and Fulton ran
from friend to friend for loans with which to finish the
boat* Robert Lennox was one of ten men to subscribe
one hundred dollars, but refused to let his name be
put down because, "I shouldn't like the people who
come after me to learn that I was such a dunce as to
think that Fulton, or anybody else, ever could make
a boat go with steam or wheels, "

There was not only public derision to be fought
against, but the malignancies of ignorance. Sailors,
gaining the idea that Fulton's invention would destroy
their means of livelihood, tried to wreck the boat even
as the farmhands of a later period were to break up
thrashing machines. Overcoming every obstacle by
sheer force of will, Fulton drove forward, and at last
the Clermont was ready for its test. Of the crowds
that gathered on August 17, 1807, scarce one expected
the ungainly craft to move, for according to one con-
temptuous comment, it looked like nothing except "a
backwoods sawmill mounted on a scow and set on
fire."

Fulton, balanced on the wobbly deck, paid no heed

1122]

1

THE BELOVED GENIUS

to the catcalls and jeers of the spectators, and gave
the order to start in a proud, confident tone. Alas,
the Clermont only shuddered violently, as with some
terrible ague, and then fell into a cataleptic trance. A
roar of delight went up from the crowd, but Fulton,
white-faced and indomitable, tinkered successfully,
and on a second attempt the boat moved upstream
with such majesty as its squat proportions permitted.

Albany, one hundred and fifty miles away, was
reached in thirty-two hours, and to the affrighted
people of the countryside, the Clermont seemed "a
monster moving on the waters, defying wind and tide,
and breathing flames and smoke/ 7 Dry pine was the
fuel, and as night fell, the crews of sailing ships
"shrank beneath their decks from the terrible sight,
and let their vessels run ashore, while others pros-
trated themselves and besought Providence to protect
them from the horrible monster which was marching
on the tides, lighting its path by the fires which it
vomited."

Where now were those that scoffed? The whole
nation burst into applause ; the New York Legislature
confirmed and extended the Livingstone-Fulton
monopoly of steam traffic on the Hudson; within two
years the Car of Neptune was added to the Albany
service, and the Raritan was plying between New
York and Brunswick. The boats were vastly im-
proved, and although the seven dollars fare to Al-
bany was looked upon as "very high," the passenger
lists constitute a directory of Old New York, contain-
ing such names as Jay, Bensalaer, Cruger, Duane,
Schuyler, Van Tassel, Ten Eyck, Morris, Duer, Beek-
man, Bleecker, Brevoort, Pell, Vassar and Fish.

"As the Steam Boat has been fitted up in elegant
style," read the regulations, "order is necessary to

[123]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

keep it so. It is not permitted for any person to lie
down in a berth, with their boots or shoes on, under
a penalty of one dollar and a half, and half a dollar
for every half hour they may offend against this rule."

How Fulton found the time to pay court will ever
remain a mystery, but a few months after the success-
ful launching of the Clermont he married the beautiful
Harriet Livingstone, a cousin of the Chancellor, and
her description of him may be taken as proof that she
had been properly wooed: "He was a prince among
men, as modest as he was great and as handsome as
he was modest. His eyes were glorious with love and
genius."

In 1811 we find Pulton ready to begin ferry serv-
ices from New York to Brooklyn and New Jersey,
having invented a double-ender steamer, also floating
docks, and at the same time launching ships for traffic
between Pittsburgh and New Orleans. It was at this
period that he had the idea of the locomotive and
railroad, but Livingstone refused to assist in the
financing of the project, insisting that the cost would
be prohibitive. What more natural than that the Neva
and the Granges, those colorful streams, should make
appeal to Fulton's ardent imagination, and it is not at
all surprising to find him preparing plans for the in-
vasion of Russia and India.

The war of 1812, arousing Fulton's patriotism to
the highest pitch, caused him to put all foreign ven-
tures to one side, but it was not until 1814, when a
British fleet menaced New Tork, that he was able to
gain approval for a steam frigate carrying forty-four
guns and equipped to fire red-hot shot. Ever since
his immersion in the Seine, laboring to raise his
sunken boat, the tireless inventor had suffered from
lung trouble, and now overwork and constant exposure

[124]

THE BELOVED GENIUS

brought a return of the old complaint. He refused to
abate his feverish intensity, racing daily from ship-
yard to engine works. "Worn out at last, he took to
Ms bed and died on February 24, 1815, in the fiftieth
year of his age.

The whole nation mourned him, but not all this
genuineness of grief had power to change the govern-
ment from the black ingratitude that is the im-
memorial policy of republics. His steamboats had
returned him little, for unscrupulous men doomed him
to incessant litigation in defense of his patents, but
the United States owed him one hundred thousand
dollars, money due on the steam frigate and for ships
commandeered during the war. Fulton died in the
belief that this amount would be available for the
support of his children, but not until 1846 was a relief
bill passed by Congress. Even then no allowance was
made for interest, and the debt itself was reduced to
seventy-sis thousand, three hundred dollars.

[125]

51

OLD HICKOBY

IT WAS in 1780 that merciless Banastre Tarleton
swept through the Carolinas with fire and sword,
bringing his atrocities to a fit climax by the Waxhaw
massacre, when one hundred and thirteen Americans
were butchered and as many more left upon the
ground, hacked and bullet-riddled.

Among the women who crept from cave and thicket
to tend the wounded was the Widow Jackson. One
son had died in defense of his country the year before,
and in her ministering progress from body to body,
she was followed by Andrew and Robert, the two boys
that remained.

Fierce anger was mixed with the general horror,
for the patriots had been engaged in a parley at the
moment of attack, and the Spartan mother made no
objection when her bantlings took service with Davie's
wild partisans. Hard were the days that followed
Tory treachery aiding British arms and then came a
black morning when the youngsters were captured
along with others in fierce fighting at "Waxhaw church.

"Clean my boots I" rasped an officer, beckoning
small Andrew Jackson to the menial task.

His face as red as his unruly hair, and his blue
eyes burning, the thirteen-year-old boy proudly
answered that he had been taken in fair fight, and de-
manded the treatment due a prisoner of war. With
an oath, the Briton brought his sword down, butt

[126]

OLD HICKORY

Andrew, throwing up Ms arm, escaped with no worse
than a cut that scarred him for life. Tying their
prisoners so fast that some of the buckskin thongs bit
to the bone, the British carried them to Camden and
threw them into stockaded pest-holes where they died
like flies from starvation and smallpox.

The agonized mother, flinging herself at the feet
of Lord Eawdon, brought about an exchange that gave
her back her ewe lambs, but Eobert died as they
reached the humble cabin, and Andrew lay at death's
door through weary weeks.

No sooner was the boy well than the heroic widow
hurried to Charleston, where imprisoned relatives and
friends suffered in the hulks ; but yellow fever struck
her down while she nursed the sick and wounded.
Young Andrew, left alone in the world, could not even
find her grave that he might sob out Ms aching heart
upon it.

In the hour of this "Waxhaw lad's travail, little
Eachel Donelson set forth on the swift waters of the
Holston as though to keep an appointment made in
Heaven. Her father was one of the sturdy immigrants
faring into the wilderness to found the settlement of
Nashville, and as he gripped his long rifle at sight of
painted figures slipping through the forest, Ms brown-
skinned, fearless daughter took the helm.

"When Jackson, by that time a successful lawyer,
came to the Tennessee village, it was to tMs girl of
the frontier that he gave his deathless love.

Elizabeth Jackson and Eachel Donelson these
two women were the great compelling forces in
Andrew Jackson's life, molding it, driving it, owning
it, until that gaunt body broke under the strain of
exhausting passions. Loving the soil and the peace
of his plantation, it was the memory of his mother's

[127]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

sufferings that sent Mm, so white-hot, against the
British in 1812 ; that he might lift a slandered wife to
heights far above her traducers was largely the cause
of his entry into politics. At every point in his two
terms as President of the United States, his deep and
abiding adoration of these dead women is seen as a
guiding influence more powerful than any other con-
sideration.

What need to go tediously into the details of poor
BachePs tragedy? Marrying Louis Robards, an un-
pleasant young KentucHan, she had left him because
of his cruelties. Unable to force her return, he
brought suit for divorce in far-off Virginia, and took
pains to send word to Nashville that it had been
granted.

Jackson, in love with the delightful, high-spirited
girl, offered his hand, and the whole community re-
joiced in the happiness of a popular pair too long kept
apart. Two years passed and then, like a thunder-
bolt, came the news that Eobards had filed another
suit in Kentucky, assigning his wife's misconduct as
the cause. The blackguard, taking advantage of the
absence of communication, had purposely failed to
complete the Virginia proceeding, and now crept
forward to stain and shame the happiness of the
Jacksons.

There was a re-marriage in 1794, but from that
day Andrew Jackson walked in watchfulness im-
placable, deadly eye and ear keen to catch look or
word that sought to soil his heart's dearest. Governor
Sevier, brave enough to have been above such mean-
ness, uttered an ugly sneer, and Jackson, failing
to bring about a meeting on the field of honor, rode
like a madman into the group of which Sevier made
one, and trampled his enemy under foot. Neither was

[128]

OLD HICKORY

his duel with Charles Dickinson the manifestation of
any inborn truculence, but natural resentment of vile
gossip anent the circumstances of his marriage.

The meeting took place in Kentucky, a day's ride
from Nashville, and Dickinson, an expert shot, boasted
that he would put his bullet through Jackson's heart.

At the word, "Fire!" Dickinson's pistol roared
through the forest glade, but while a flick of dust flew
from Jackson's coat, the tall slender figure remained
as straight as a ramrod.

Seeing that he had missed, the doomed man turned
his face that he might not have to watch his opponent's
weapon pull down to an aim as steady as the hills. A
second that must have seemed eternity, then the re-
port, and, with a bullet through his body, Dickinson
fell to the ground, a dying man.

Not until they were well away from the field did
his seconds notice that Jackson dripped blood in a
steady stream, and upon examination they found that
Dickinson 's ball had buried itself in the breast, break-
ing two ribs near the heart. As one exclaimed his
astonishment that he should have been able to take
such careful aim while suffering so great a shock,
Jackson's eyes burned with the cold light of Arctic
ice. "Sir," he said, "I should have killed him had he
shot me through the brain,"

The real nature of the man noble, generous was
shown by his street duel with Thomas Hart Benton
and his brother Jesse. Jackson took a lead slug in
the shoulder that bothered him to his death, yet the
warm friendship which had formerly existed between
the two men was resumed, and the great Missouri
senator became his stoutest champion. But Benton
once said to a friend, "Gk>d help me if it had been
about Aunt BacheL"

[129]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Jackson's furious hatred of Henry Clay sprang
from the conviction that the Kentuckian was responsi-
ble for dragging Mrs. Jackson into the campaign, and
when a friend argued that he should forgive Clay,
having forgiven Benton, he answered, " There wasn't
any poison on Benton 's bullet It was honest lead."

That Jackson accepted an election to the House of
Representatives in 1796, and took a senator's seat the
following year, was due in small degree to his own
inclination. He wanted to lift Rachel, his beloved, to
a position that would show his adoring pride. Within
the year he resigned, and even his appointment as a
judge of the Supreme Court of Tennessee had no
power to keep him away from the woods and fields
that his soul loved. The crowded year of 1812 found
him at the Hermitage, a gentleman planter of forty-
five, happy in his plantation, and still happier that he
was through with public life.

On the moment that the United States declared
war against Great Britain, however, it was as though
his mother had called from her unmarked grave.
Again he saw the mangled bodies of Buf ord's patriots.
Again he felt the sharp pain of the British officer's
blow, and springing from his retreat, he called for
volunteers in a voice that shook the state.

More than two thousand responded, and gaining
their acceptance by the government, Jackson marched
for the Mississippi en route to New Orleans. Ordered
back from Natchez and his men disbanded for the
danger of a southern invasion passed the sudden
war cry of the Creeks gave new opportunity for action.

Chief "Weatherf ord and his tribe, inflamed by the
British, menaced the whole Mississippi region, for not
even the Iroquois were braver or more ruthless. It
was with the screams of murdered women and children

[130]

OLD HICKORY

in their ears that Jackson and a hastily-assembled
troop marched to Alabama, commencing a campaign
unsurpassed in point of heroic and indomitable re-
solve. It was not merely physical obstacles that had
to be overcome, although rivers and harsh mountain
ranges provided them in plenty* Three states left
Jackson to starve, and mutinous men became his foes
as much as any Indian. Suffering from an open
wound, ravaged by dysentery, forced to use acorns as
food, and at times deserted by all save a faithful few,
Jackson drove forward, and at last crushed and beaten
Weatherford fell before him, begging peace.

He whipped the Creeks at Tallushatchee, covering
the ground with their dead, and at Talladega his half-
starved men won another great victory. But with
food entirely gone by now, further advance was an
impossibility. A vast rage swept the men, abandoned
by the very people for whom they fought, but when
the militia set out for home, Jackson awed them into
submission with the rifles of the volunteers.

At another day it was the volunteers who tried to
desert, but they in turn were beaten back by the
militia, cajoled into new loyalty by "Old Hickory. "
All to no avail. The expected supplies were still
delayed, and as he saw barefooted, starving men drop
in their tracks from sheer weakness, Jackson gave the
order for disbandment. At the last minute, however,
his fierce tenacity rebelled against retreat, and he
cried, "If only two men will remain with me, I will
never abandon this post."

One hundred and nine stepped forward and, his
determination fired anew, he faced the rest with a
cocked musket in his hand and swore by "the im-
maculate God" to blow the first scoundrel into eternity
who dared lift a foot. Again, when a majority of his

[131]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

men claimed that their enlistments had expired, he
trained his artillery upon them, and drove them back
to their quarters. It was a losing fight, however. Day
by day his force dwindled. But in the hour of darkest
despair, supplies and reinforcements arrived.

Leaping forward in January, 1814, he defeated
the Creeks in two pitched battles and ended the war
in March at Horse-shoe Bend on the Tallapoosa.
Seven hundred Indians were killed in the bloody con-
test, among them the fiery Prophets who had promised
victory, and broken Weatherf ord begged peace.

As a consequence of the Creek campaign, Jackson
was made major-general in the regular army and
charged with the protection of the Mississippi and
its mouth. One swift survey of his problems, and
then, with superb audacity, Old Hickory marched for
the capture of Pensacola.

What did it matter that we were at peace with
Spain? Jackson knew that the Spaniards had armed
and inflamed the Creeks and that the British were
using Pensacola as a base in preparation for an attack
on New Orleans. Striking the Florida capital in his
usual swift, resistless fashion, he sent English and
Indians flying, and put everlasting fear in the hearts
of the Spaniards*

Now came word that the British fleet was bearing
down upon New Orleans, and, accompanied only by
his riflemen, Old Hickory rushed to the rescue. Pro-
claiming martial law, for the city was a honeycomb
of treason, Jackson set to work to build an army of
defense, reaching out eagerly for friendly Indians,
freed blacks, Creole volunteers, and even rejoicing in
the aid of Jean Lafitte and his Baratarian pirates.
Only two thousand men in all was he able to gather,
yet with this rtfotley crew, jabbering in every

[132]

I

r3

I

pq

03

I

O

s

OLD HICKORY

tongue, he attacked the British on the night of their
landing, and beat back three thousand trained Penin-
sular veterans.

On Christmas Day arrived General Sir Edward
Pakenham, bringing reinforcements, and with the
same stupid arrogance that had marked ill-fated Brad-
dock sixty years before him, the new commander
resolved upon a frontal attack that would sweep the
wretched Indian fighters before it. On January
eighth, secure behind the earthworks that Jackson had
thrown up, the Americans met the charge with deadly
rifle fire, mowing the British down in windrows as if
with some giant scythe. The gallant Pakenham fell
at the head of his troops, and when the British con-
fessed defeat at the day's end, two thousand one
hundred redcoats littered the battle field.

What mattered it that peace had already been de-
clared, and that the politicians planned censure for
Jackson's invasion of Spanish territory? The people
loved him for a victory that had restored national
pride in some degree, and rejoiced in his intrepidity.

Content in having avenged Ms dead mother, Jack-
son dragged his pain-racked bones back to the
Hermitage, but in 1818 he was called to take command
of the campaign against the Seminoles, and again he
defied the law of nations in fierce pursuit of his objec-
tive. It was from the swamps of Florida that the
Indians ravaged the American frontier, and, with
contemptuous disregard of the boundary line, Jackson
crossed into Spanish territory, burned the Indian
towns, hanged their chiefs, and executed two British
citizens chiefly responsible for the uprisings.

""Why not?" he cried. "My God would not have
smiled on me had I punished the ignorant savages and
spared the white men who set them on."

[133]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Once more there was an attempt to censure him,
Henry Clay leading the politicians, and again the
people roared their approval of a headlong warrior
that nothing turned aside. Tennessee made him
senator in 1822, a great wave of popular enthusiasm
swept him into the presidential campaign of 1824, and
only by the narrowest margin did he miss the honor,
the electoral votes standing ninety-nine for Jackson,
eighty-four for John Quincy Adams, forty-one for
Crawford and thirty-seven for Clay. There being no
majority, the election went to the House of Repre-
sentatives, where Clay threw his strength to Adams.

As the new President's first act was to make Clay
his Secretary of State, a corrupt bargain was charged
instantly, but it was not that ; merely the last desper-
ate attempt of the Old Order to retain power. Jackson
stood for the masses, the disregarded commonalty of
America, and the aristocratic class, reared in the
oligarchic tradition, joined forces to sweep back this
rising tide of passionate democracy, political differ-
ences forgotten in a common fear and hatred.

Jackson, painfully distrustful of his abilities, had
not wanted to be a candidate, but now he threw himself
into the capture of the presidency with all the ardor
of his volcanic nature. The voice of the people had
spoken; that voice had been mocked. Now was he
moved "by an inflexible purpose to vindicate both his
own right to the position, and the right of his fellow
citizens to choose their Chief Executive without
hindrance. "

Not in all the history of American politics is there
record of a viler campaign than that of 1828. Poor
Eachel was made the great issue, and a thousand
poisoned pens and tongues poured out a steady stream
of slander and vulgarities that had the burn of some

[134]

OLD HICKORY

vile acid. Jackson put Ms love before her as a shield,
but in the very hour that news came of her husband's
overwhelming victory, Rachel's gentle heart broke of
its pain.

Overturning precedent, Jackson swept every mem-
ber of the opposition from office, a course that has been
hailed as the inauguration of the spoils system. As
a matter of fact, his motives were personal, not
political. He wanted to destroy all those who had in
any way contributed to the attack upon his dead wife.
To him they were unclean creatures, and down to the
smallest man he pursued them with relentless ferocity.

At every point his love of Elizabeth Jackson and
Rachel Donelson is seen as the dominant factor in Ms
life. General Eaton, his Secretary of War, had
married Peggy O'Neal, the daughter of a tavern
keeper, and in order to have an excuse for snobbish-
ness "Washington society circulated the lie of adulter-
ous relations prior to the marriage. It was his own
experience over again and not only did the President
devote weeks and months to the complete establish-
ment of Mrs. Eaton's innocence, but he brought every
force of his iron will to beat down the social ostracism
that the wives of Cabinet members had decreed.

It was a battle that made history. Martin Van
Buren, the Secretary of State, happened to be a
widower, but Oalhoun suffered from a strong-minded,
aristocratic wife. It cost him the Presidency, for Mrs.
Calhoun's exclusiveness added fuel to Jackson's
growing dislike of her husband, even as Van Bur en's
cMvalric attitude toward Mrs. Eaton was at the bottom
of the friendship that impelled Jackson to give Mm
his powerful support in 1836.

In the President's approach to the great political
issues of the day, the influence of Ms mother is plainly

[135]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

seen. Elizabeth Jackson was of the plain people,
companioned from birth by poverty, and it was this
that gave the son his passionate sympathy with the
toiling, struggling masses of humanity.

Democracy had not been the intent of the Fathers
in framing the Constitution they gave the shadow, not
the substance and at the time Jackson ascended to
the Presidency, all power was in the hands of priv-
ileged groups. Even Jefferson had not uprooted the
oligarchic features of American life, for his purpose
was to do good for the people, not to let the people do
good for themselves.

Against these conditions the President hurled him-
self with the impetuous courage that had marked him
as a soldier. No one dreamed that he would dare to
lay impious hands upon the United States Bank, that
great citadel of privilege, but Jackson saw it clearly
as a vast monopoly that put loaded dice in the hands
of a few, and he vetoed its rechartering as a first at-
tack, and then withdrew the government's deposits to
complete its ruin.

When Calhoun and South Carolina boldly set aside
federal laws, threatening armed resistance and seces-
sion, can it be doubted that Andrew Jackson thrilled
to the memory of his dead mother's hopes and suffer-
ings? Freely, gladly, she had given two sons that
America might win free from Old World tyranny, and
following the dream of a great republic, had laid down
her own life. Now that rude hands tore at the bonds
of union, inviting chaos, was he to sit by, idle and
acquiescent I

"The Federal Union! It must and shall be pre-
served/ 1 This was Jackson's answer to Calhoun and
his Nullifiers. "If a single drop of blood shall be shed
there in defiance of the laws of the United States," he

[136]

OLD HICKORY

said, "I will hang the first man I lay my hand on,
engaged in such treasonable conduct, upon the first
tree I can reach. " It sufficed.

At the end of his second term he retired in glad-
ness to the quiet of the Hermitage, and while he de-
livered a long and able farewell message, the integrity
and selflessness of the man is best expressed in this
letter to a friend:

"I returned home with just ninety dollars in
money, having expended all my salary and most of
the proceeds of my cotton crop ; found everything out
of repair ; corn, and everything else for the use of my
farm, to buy ; having but one tract of land besides my
homestead, which I have sold, and which has enabled
me to begin the new year clear of debt, relying on our
industry and economy to yield us a support, and
trusting to a kind Providence for good seasons and
a prosperous crop."

Simply, contentedly, he lived and worked his fields,
spending a part of each day at the grave of his wife,
until June 8, 1845, when the tempestuous spirit left
the body that it had racked for so many crowded years.
Some time before his death, admiring friends had
offered him the sarcophagus of the Roman Emperor
Severus, but he waved it away contemptuously, want-
ing nothing but to share the plain tomb of his beloved
Rachel. And as the end drew near, he made clear his
belief in a hereafter, but whispered, " Heaven will be
no heaven to me if I do not meet my wife there."

[137]

XII

THE SHINING SWOBD

To THAT wild Paris of 1804, when Napoleon killed
so ruthlessly and fitted his head to an emperor's
crown, came a young Venezuelan with many gold
pieces and a great grief. His child wife had died the
year before, even as the honeymoon was at its full, and
youthful Simon Bolivar sought the dissipations of the
French capital that he might numb the pain of a
broken heart* More lavish than a Roman proconsul,
careless of everything save forgetfulness, his imperial
prodigalities set a thousand nights on fire, shaming
Eussian princes by their superior magnificence.

Suddenly those tense nerves snapped, and as he
lay ill and more than ever unhappy, the literature of
the American Revolution fell into his hands. The
flaming sentences of the Declaration of Independence
caught his soul and shook it loose from every selfish-
ness ; the story of Washington was a clarion call to
high resolve and noble purpose. A visit to the United
States strengthened his belief in democracy as the
hope of humanity, and when he reached his native
land again, patriotism was a passion that consumed
him.

It was not only that Simon Bolivar, consecrated to
great ideals, gave liberty and laws to Venezuela,
Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, ending three
centuries of Spanish rule. His was the hand that
waked our own republic from its dream of isolation,

[138]

TEE SEINING SWORD

and Ms the courage that fired Americans to hurl the
grim phrases of the Monroe Doctrine against the in-
solent pretensions of Old World autocracy.

Strong in the faith that the Atlantic Ocean con-
stituted an impassable barrier against the aggressions
of European monarchies, James Monroe sat stunned
as he watched the Holy Alliance prepare to send
armies to South America for the subjugation of
Spain's rebellious colonies, led by Bolivar from vic-
tory to victory.

England, no less alarmed, proposed concerted
resistance; Jefferson and Madison, called upon for
advice, urged immediate acceptance of the offer, and
even as the timorous Monroe fussed and fidgeted, the
clamor of a nation filled his flapping ears.

From the very first, Americans had followed
Bolivar's campaigns with passionate interest, and
now there was fierce anger that European despots
should gather to strike him down, together with a
wholesome fear of what might happen to the United
States if the Holy Alliance gained a foothold in the
Western Hemisphere. Whereupon Monroe and John
Quincy Adams penned the historic message that closed
the New World against further colonization by the
Old, threatening war if Continental troops were sent
to crush Bolivar and the democratic aspirations of his
people.

Small wonder that the heart of America went out
to Simon Bolivar, or that hundreds sailed to fight
under his banner. There was a wealth of romantic
appeal in the sight of this young aristocrat risking
life and great estates to win freedom and justice for
humbler souls, and imagination could not fail to be
thrilled by spectacular marches that dared comparison
with the strategy of Hannibal and Napoleon. His

[139]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

battle line was three thousand miles, intersected by
three pathless Cordilleras, and the snow of every pass
in the Andes knew the stain of his army's bleeding
feet.

Bolivar's first chance for revolution came in 1808,
when Napoleon put Joseph Bonaparte on the throne
of Spain, Quick to realize that Spanish power was
now an empty shell, the young patriot joined in a call
to arms, and by 1811 the Venezuelan insurgents were
sufficiently victorious to declare their independence.
Even as they exulted, the tide of battle turned, and
within the year their forces were scattered, their
leaders in flight, and city gutters running with blood
as the Spaniards raced from massacre to massacre.

Now it was that Bolivar showed the indomitable
will, the deathless courage, that lifted him, above the
fluid souls of lesser men. Escaping to New Granada
(now Colombia), he begged aid of a revolutionary
group, and invaded Venezuela from the west, calling
upon the people to rise and strike. They came in a
flood, armed only with knives and home-made spears,
but catching fire from Bolivar's unconquerable spirit,
these rude levies beat down the veterans of Spain.

All of Bolivar's campaigns had the emotional
quality of crusades. His addresses before each battle
were war songs, and his proclamations rang with an
epic passion that wrapped every man in the armor of
invincibility. There were to be weary days when the
only food was raw meat, put beneath saddles that the
horse's sweat might salt it, yet when he burst into
one of his inspiring chants, dying men came to life
and fought like Cids.

Not all the adoration of plain people, however,
could guard Bolivar against the treacheries of lieu-
tenants, and from first to last he walked a lane of

[140]

THE SHINING SWORD

Benedict Arnolds. Even as lie planned the future of
Venezuela, laying the foundations of freedom, every
bright promise was destroyed by envy and intrigue,
and 1814 saw a whole population fleeing before the
wrath of the victorious Spaniards. Women and chil-
dren were in that ghastly hegira, and dying mothers
threw their babes into mountain gorges rather than
have them fall into the power of the human tigers that
pursued.

A penniless fugitive in Jamaica, we find Bolivar
charming a certain rich man, Brion, into an offer of
ships and money ; Petion, the black President of Haiti,
was no less enthralled by the magnetism and torrential
eloquence of the indomitable Venezuelan, and in the
spring of 1817 we find him renewing the revolution,
sublimely confident. Yet not one ray of light shot
through the darkness before him, for Ferdinand VII,
returned to the throne, had sent ten thousand soldiers
to South America, and offered a fortune for Bolivar's
head.

This time, however, there was a new approach, for
the Liberator put the seacoast and its cities behind
him, and made a dash for the interior. There Jose
Paez had gathered the wild plainsmen into guerrilla
bands, and with the Orinoco as his base of operations,
Bolivar cried a new challenge to the might of Spain.
Defeats alternated with victories ; one day he beat at
the very gates of Caracas and the next saw him alone
and hunted; twice he missed capture by a hair; unruly
lieutenants defied his authority; and, forced to recog-
nize the hopelessness of the Venezuelan campaign,
Bolivar's genius marked New Granada as the one
battle field where success might be won,

Not in all the annals of warfare is there any equal
to this march of unrelieved horror, suffering and

SONS OF THE EAGLE

death. The rainy season had turned the endless
stretch of grassy plain into an inland sea, and for
weary weeks the half-clothed, half-starved men waded
through water up to their waists, swimming rivers
where alligators took deadly toll, and never knowing
the comfort of a fire.

At last the dreaded Cordilleras rose before them,
and now they froze, men falling to death as their numb
fingers refused to take firm grip on mountain walls.
Like crippled beasts they crawled across the Paramo
de Pisba, a lofty desert swept by icy winds, barren
of animal or vegetable life, more frightful than any of
Dante's conceptions. Hundreds fell, never to rise
again, and as the survivors staggered on, they beat
each other with scourges that their blood might not
congeal.

Bolivar, sharing every privation, flung these
ambulant corpses against the Spaniards at Boyaca on
August 7, 1819, winning a great and decisive victory.
A triumphal entry into Bogota and then the union of
Venezuela, New Granada and Quito (now Ecuador),
into one republic under the name of Colombia. Elected
president by acclamation, Bolivar devoted 1820 to the
stabilization of the new government creating depart-
ments and drawing up a civil code and then returned
to Venezuela for one last Homeric battle in which he
crushed Spanish power.

Forgotten now were the agonies of the Paramo de
Pisba. From Panama came word of successful revolu-
tion, and only the South remained to be freed. Some
months before, with his usual vision, Bolivar had sent
Jose Sucre to Ecuador by sea, and he himself now
prepared to join that dashing young general with an
army of Colombians. Even to-day the boldest traveler
shrinks from making the journey from Bogot& to

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+3

co

I

THE SHINING SWORD

Quito by land, for first there is a heart-breaking drop
of nine thousand feet to the Magdalena valley, then a
sheer climb to the crest of the Andes, after which
comes a second descent of three thousand feet to the
vales of Cauca.

Of three thousand men that set out on the march,
only two thousand reached the plain of Bombona in
April, 1822, but as at Boyaca, Bolivar's burning
appeals the call of a Highland chieftain to his elan
lifted the starved, wretched survivors to heights of
valor.

All day the battle raged on the scarred slopes of
the volcano of Pasto, but when a full moon climbed
above the snowy peaks, the insurgents were masters
of the field. Even so, their plight was desperate. Out-
numbered, surrounded, Bolivar turned and twisted in
vain attempt to escape, but as he planted his back
against the mountain wall for a last stand, word came
that Quito had fallen, and the disheartened Spaniards
begged a truce.

Well for the Liberator that he had chosen Sucre
for the southern mission. This great general, reach-
ing Ecuador, found the revolutionists quarreling like
street dogs over bones, and whipping the Spaniards
was a far easier task than quieting the clash of mean
ambitions. It was not until January, 1822, that he
was able to set out for the conquest of Quito a march
worthy of Bolivar himself for the way led across the
summit of the Andes. Gaining the upland valleys,
Sucre clawed along the sides of Cotopaxi, crawled
through the lava beds of Pichincha in a midnight of
storm, and from the heights above Quito struck the
blow that ended Spanish rule in Ecuador.

It was this victory that saved Bolivar as he stood
at bay in the mountains to the north. As one risen

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SONS OF THE EAGLE

from the grave lie entered Quito in triumph, walking
under flower arches that proclaimed him i ' The Light-
ning of War and the Eainbow of Peace." The
Eepublic of Colombia, creation of his courage and
vision, was now free of the oppressor, and to brim
his cup of joy, the United States braved the wrath of
Spain and extended recognition. This was the dramat-
ic hour selected by fate for his meeting with Jose
San Martin, South America's other great man.

Not only had San Martin led the armies of Buenos
Aires in successful rebellion, but sweeping across the
Andes, had won the freedom of Chili in two fierce
battles. Handing control of the republic to Bernardo
O'Higgins, the Lion of the Andes now turned attention
to Peru, Spain 9 s stronghold.

Lord Cochrane, an Englishman driven from his
own land, gathered a navy that swept Spanish vessels
from the sea, and San Martin, attacking by land, was
master of the seacoast by 1820. The Spaniards, how-
ever, held fast to the interior, and his visit to Bolivar
was for the discussion of Peru's complete conquest.

Tragically enough, although naturally, these two
tremendous personalities clashed at the outset.
Bolivar, ever the aristocrat despite his passionate
democracy, was imperious in argument, and the very
self-confidence that gave him such driving force, also
made him incapable of sharing command. San Martin,
seeing that cooperation was an impossibility, put
patriotism above pride, and agreed to return to Chili,
leaving the Peruvian campaign entirely to Bolivar
and his Colombians. Dearly indeed was the Liberator
to pay for his blindness.

Various uprisings kept him in Ecuador for a year,
and when he reached Callao he found the Spaniards
victorious everywhere and the Peruvians torn by

[144]

THE SHINING SWORD

factional dissensions. So-called presidents littered
the country, and even as he labored to restore unity,
word came that the Holy Alliance had promised aid
to Spain, and that armies would soon be on the seas
for South America. Bolivar knew it as the death of
hope, but as though the gates of heaven opened, Mon-
roe's message shot light into the pit of his despair.

Flaming with all of Ms old energy, the Liberator
rose superior to treachery and desertion; troops
were begged from Chili and Buenos Aires; and, al-
though fever dragged him to the grave's edge, he
waved death away and led an army across the Andes.
A pitiful army, ill-equipped and out-numbered by the
trained veterans of Spain, but at Junin, on August 6,
1824, Bolivar cried to the men in the name of Boyaca
and Bombona, poured the wine of his own fierce re-
solve into their weary veins, and night saw the bloody
field in possession of the patriots.

The battle of Ayachuco, some months later, marked
the end of struggle, Sucre, caught in a trap by vastly
superior forces, rose to new heights of genius even as
his soldiers raised new standards of valor. Stabbing
their horses to banish every thought of flight, they
gave themselves superbly to Sucre's dazzling strategy,
and at the battle's end, two thousand Spaniards lay
dead or dying, and La Serna, last viceroy to Peru,
gave up his sword in token of unconditional surrender.

What an opportunity for Bolivar!

"Soldiers!" he cried, " South America is covered
with the trophies of your bravery, but Aycucho, like
Chimborazo, towers proudly over all. Colombians!
Hundreds of victories lengthen your days to the end
of the world. " With noble generosity he hailed Sucre
as the "liberator of Peru," "his right arm," "the
soul of the army," and waved to him the golden laurel

[145]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

wreaths and jeweled gifts that an adoring people
brought. And when Upper Peru declared itself an
independent republic under the name of Bolivia, it
was for Sucre that he asked the presidency.

These were his happiest times. Like the iron-
framed Washington, Bolivar could ride all day and
dance all night, and there were balls and laughter and
flower-bearing maidens. Nor was Lima less joyous,
for a frenzied congress made him president of Peru
for life, and would have named him Emperor of the
Andes but for his stern rebuke, "The soil of
America, 75 he cried with his usual inability to speak
plain prose, "illumined by the flames of liberty,
would devour thrones. "

To Trim, at this time, through the medium of La
Fayette, came a miniature of George "Washington,
containing a lock of the dead President's hair, and
with tears the Liberator pressed it to his heart and
blessed it as "the crown of human rewards, " And
as he sat there in the palace of Pizarro, looking across
the sea to the United States, greater and more shining
dreams possessed him.

Colombia, Peru and Bolivia those countries would
he unite in a firm confederation, and might it not bo
that Chili and the Argentine could be induced to see
the value of union? Cuba and Jamaica they must be
freed and what of Mexico?

Even as he dreamed of liberty in the room where
once Pizarro planned autocracy, news came that
brought him back to earth. Venezuela and Granada
were at each other's throats, and Ecuador rioted in
a fury of factionalism. With Colombia, love of his
heart, tottering on the verge of disintegration, Bolivar
put aside the presidency of Peru, gave the people his
blessing, and sailed in September, 1826, never to
return*

[146]

THE SHINING SWORD

However arrogantly traitors rebelled and blustered
in Ms absence, not one ever dared meet Bolivar in a
duel of eyes. Once again in Bogota, tlie Liberator
whipped trouble-makers into silence as though they
had been schoolboys, and proceeding to Venezuela
with scarce a body-guard, lashed Paez and his wild
plainsmen into servile obedience. Then followed
grinding months devoted to the restoration of order,
the establishment of civil government, the wearisome
details of finance and administration, yet not all his
iron will and fierce energy could hold together a union
that had in itself no elements of cohesion.

First Sucre arrived, a fugitive from the gratitude
of Bolivia. Then, in 1828, came word that Peru, equally
grateful, was cursing Bolivar as a despot, and sending
troops to wage war against Colombia for the posses-
sion of the Ecuadorian seaboard. Wearily, but
indomitably, the Liberator reached for the sword he
had never thought to use again, and as once more he
plunged down from Bogota on the terrible march to
Quito, in his heart must have been the despair of
Sisyphus rolling rocks up hill only to have them fall
back on him.

The bare fact of the Liberator's presence chilled
the rebels of Popayan, and by the time he reached
Quito in March, 1829, gallant Sucre had whipped the
Peruvians in two decisive battles, forcing them to
sign a treaty of peace that defined boundaries. Even
this good news had no power to lift Bolivar's black
depression. Eighteen of his forty-six years had been
scarred by every conceivable hardship, and now heart-
break added to the drain of physical exhaustion.

From all quarters came word of revolt, led by men
he had loved and honored, and every wind bore the
curses of a strange and insensate hatred. Without

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SONS OF TEE EAGLE

strength, he fell victim to a wasting fever, and when
he finally returned to Bogota in January, 1830, for
the opening of congress, he was a dead man but for his
great, burning eyes. And as he sat, ringed about with
faces that hid treachery under fawning, news arrived
that Ecuador had seceded, and messengers brought
word that Paez had declared the independence of
Venezuela, threatening Bolivar with death if he dared
return.

Once he would have gone to Caracas alone, and
brought the ignorant plainsman to his knees, but now
a sense of vast futility weighed him down. What was
the use? Had there ever been use? San Martin and
O'Higgins, stoned from the Chili that they had freed,
were now in exile. Sucre, that chevalier sans reproche,
had been driven from Bolivia in an outburst of obscene
hatred.

Colombia begged him to accept a fifth term as
president, for no plotter yet possessed sufficient
strength to seize the office, but all that Bolivar wanted
now was to be away from lies, treachery and ingrati-
tude. Eejecting honors grown empty and distasteful,
he left the capital, and alone, friendless, went down to
Cartagena to the rest of a rented hut.

Of the great fortune that had been his, nothing
remained; all had been offered up on the altar of
liberty. Walking heights far above corruption, no
unclean cent had soiled his fingers during the years
he had administered the finances of five countries;
above material considerations as above dishonor, he
had refused to accept a salary, either as president or
commander-in-chief, and he had steadfastly rejected
the millions voted him by Colombia and Peru.

The sale of some family silver gave him a few
hundreds, and in loneliness and poverty he watched

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TEE SEINING SWORD

scurvy politicians tear at the foundations of govern-
ment. Venezuela, Ecuador and Peru buried Ms name
under vile epithets, and as if fate meant to spare Mm
nothing, Sucre, loved as a brother, was done to death
by assassins. With a cry that tore his throat, Bolivar
bowed his graying head, and begged for the end. On
December 17, 1830 old and broken at forty-seven
Ms prayer was granted.

"I have ploughed the sea." These were Ms last
words.

[149]

XIII

THE PLAYBOY OF THE PLAINS

EVEBY now and then, as if weary with the sameness
of her pattern, Nature creates a human being com-
pounded entirely of color, fire and fierce revolts,
sending him into the world to blaze like a comet
through the dullness of uniformity.

Such a man was Sam Houston: tremendous,
Homeric sinking from a governorship to the
squalors of an Indian wigwam, rising again to the
presidency of a republics a Colossus in buckskin
breeches and red blanket, a mountain peak in the
plain; absurd in his naive theatricalisms, majestic
with his high heart and eye of flame.

At thirteen we find him fleeing civilization for the
wild life of the Cherokees his one possession a dog-
eared copy of the Iliad roaring the full-mouthed
challenges of Hector and Achilles as he tracked the
deer or swaggered about his camp-fire. At twenty-
one he is a private in the Creek campaign, following
and adoring Andrew Jackson, a soul as bold and un-
tamable as himself. At Tohopeka, where Chief
Weatherf ord made his last stand, a barbed arrow bit
deep into Houston's thigh. Forcing a comrade to
pull it out, careless of the gush of blood, lie led a
second charge, only to receive two leaden slugs that
shattered arm and shoulder.

Left on the field for dead, his giant frame threw
off its hurts ; well again, he proved a power in pacify-

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THE PLAYBOY OF TEE PLAINS

ing tlie savages; and there is record that he deeply
angered punctilious Calhoun by appearing at the War
Department in full Indian dress. Picturesque,
dramatic, as colorful in oratory as any organ-voiced
prophet of the tribes, the people took him to their
hearts, and after two terms in Congress the governor-
ship of Tennessee came to him in 1827 almost by
acclamation.

Just thirty-four, the idol of his state and beloved
by Andrew Jackson, even the presidency was not
beyond Sam Houston's hopes, yet April of 1829 saw
him resign his office, quit his bride of three months
and walk the way of exile. No word ever escaped
those tight-locked lips, but in time it became known
that his wife had been forced into the marriage by her
parents, and loved another. To one of Houston's in-
tense, dramatic temperament the situation called for
a gesture of magnitude, and he made it with a superb
completeness that shames our shabby modern com-
promises.

Dropping his honors from him, he journeyed to
Arkansas Territory, where the Cherokees had gone,
and begged sanctuary from old Ooleteka, friend of his
boyhood. Welcomed tenderly, he drew a blanket
about his mighty shoulders, and with an eagle feather
in his hair, joined the circle at the council fire, and
was Co-lon-neh the Bover. If an actor, at least he
never stepped out of his part, for regret wrung no
whines from him. Only, as the days passed, he fell
into drunkenness, and came at last to live with
Talahina, a handsome half-breed.

A year slipped by, and then the plight of the
wretched Indians stirred him from his melancholy.
Bobbed and oppressed by contractors and agents, the
Cherokees were starving, and Houston went to Wash-

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SONS OF THE EAGLE

ington on an errand of protest. Many rascals were
kicked from office, but the system remained, and two
years later he made the journey again in behalf of
his adopted people. This time it was that Stanberry
of Ohio impugned his honor in a congressional debate,
for which Houston snatched away the coward's pistol
and caned him within an inch of his life.

Congress screamed in defense of its right to black-
guard citizens with impunity, but President Jackson
was highly delighted. "A few more examples of this
kind/' he chuckled, "and members of Congress will
learn to keep a civil tongue in their heads. " Vainly
he begged Houston to quit his savage life, but the
"proscribed man" refused favors, knowing the
attacks that would follow* Only one commission he
accepted: to compose some ugly differences with the
Comanches in Texas. Biding over the rolling plains,
Houston entered a land as vast and heroic as his own
vague aspirations.

It was in 1820 that Spain, hopeful of building an
Anglo-Saxon barrier against Indian raids, gave groat
land grants to Moses Austin. Stephen, the son, came
with three hundred families, gaunt, indomitable men
and women driving ox-carts piled high with children,
ploughs and household goods ; more grants were given,
the deadly rifles of the settlers beat back the savages,
and slowly the desert blossomed into fields and
orchards.

Mexico, winrdng independence, lapsed into despot-
ism by 1830. Tyrannical laws crushed the Texans and
ground them into the dust, but as they despaired
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna sprang forward in
rebellion, demanding justice, democracy and a return,
to the Constitution, The Texans answered the call in
gladness, won their battles gloriously, and when 1833

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THE PLAYBOY OF TEE PLAINS

saw Santa Anna in supreme power, the hopes of the
colonists mounted to the heavens.

It was in this high mood that Houston found them.
Many had known him in Tennessee, all were familiar
with his romantic history, and the Texans begged him
to become one of them and share in the brilliant
promise of their future. Santa Anna had promised
to lift the burden of unjust laws and make Texas a
separate state in the Mexican Union, and not a cloud
darkened their sky. Yet when Austin went to the
City of Mexico to claim the redemption of these
pledges, he was thrown into a dungeon, and loaded
with the irons of a felon.

Santa Anna liar, traitor, murderer, thief and
drug fiend had lost no time in establishing a dictator-
ship more cruel than that he overthrew. Blackmail-
ing, pillaging, butchering, he scourged his wretched
people until they rose in sheer desperation, whereupon
the homicidal charlatan announced that the "perfidi-
ous Texans" were in revolt, aided by the "Colossus
of the North/ 7 and called upon all true patriots to put
domestic differences to one side, and join him in
defense of the beloved Fatherland.

As Texas was entirely peaceful, the colonists
afraid to stir for fear of costing Austin his life,
General Cos was sent to the Eio Grande to force an
uprising.

Beaching Coahuila, Cos arrested the civil authori-
ties, set up a military despotism, and made it known
that Santa Anna and the main army were following
to expel all settlers of Anglo-Saxon blood. As the
unhappy Texans milled like restless cattle, a decision
was made for them even as Lexington decided for the
American colonists.

A detachment of Mexican troops tried to seize a

[153]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

small cannon belonging to the town of Q-onzales, and
the citizens whipped them back. Five hundred men.
rushed to the scene at once, and after winning two
small battles, the impromptu army marched against
San Antonio, stormed its walls, and after four days
and nights of furious fighting, forced the surrender
of Cos and thirteen hundred soldiers.

On November 1, 1835, in the midst of these excite-
ments, a general consultation met at San Felipe de
Austin, and after naming Henry Smith to head a
provisional government, made Sam Houston com-
mander-in-chief. John Quincy Adams, Henry Clay,
and Daniel Webster, these and others have poisoned
the wells of history by their infamous charges that
Houston resigned as governor of Tennessee to enter
Texas as Andrew Jackson's agent in promoting re-
bellion as part of a southern plot "to steal from a
weaker neighbor a fine slice of land suitable for slave
labor, "

Lies without foundation I Even if Houston's un-
happy years with the Cherokees did not afford
sufficient answer, his course in the consultation offers
additional refutation. Many hotheads favored an
immediate declaration of independence, but Houston
pointed out their weakness, showed the necessity of
gaining the aid of Mexican liberals, and forced the
adoption of a preamble that the colonists were taking
arms "against the encroachment of military despots,
and in defense of the republican principles of the
Constitution of 1824."

Eevolutions are not orderly processes at best, nor
had the highly individualized lives of the Texans
fitted them for cooperation.

Setting out for San Antonio in January, 1836,
Houston ran into as lurid a drama of insubordination
as reckless courage ever staged,

[154]

THE PLAYBOY OF THE PLAINS

From the United States had come several hundred
volunteers the New Orleans Grays, the Bed Rovers
of Alabama, the Kentucky Mustangs and arriving
at a time when no Mexican soldier remained on Texas
soil, these high spirited youths, eager for adventure,
were naturally open to any bold suggestion.

Doctor James Grant, a Scotchman owning huge
estates in Parras, came forward at this moment with
a plan for the invasion of Mexico, and every imagina-
tion caught fire. They would follow the footsteps of
Cortes, and find the treasure tombs of the Montezumas.
Captain Fannin and Colonel Johnson fancied them-
selves in the roles of conquistador es, and without
more ado, five hundred men marched away from San
Antonio, even stripping it of medicines for the sick
and wounded.

Houston was powerless to stem the madness, and
to complicate matters still more, word came that the
council had deposed Governor Smith, also that the
Indian tribes threatened war. Houston, perforce,
hastened north to use his great influence with the
savages, and at the same time, make an attempt to
bring order out of anarchy. Before leaving, however,
he sent a reinforcement to the Alamo, but suggested
immediate evacuation, for by now it was known that
Santa Anna marched fast to "wipe out the shame" of
Cos's surrender.

His words were wasted, for the Texans, superbly
contemptuous of Mexican valor, disdained retreat.
Every man had been trained in the savage school of
Indian warfare, and for leaders there were William
Barrett Travis, that lithe, intrepid young giant of the
red hair and blue eyes ; Davy Crockett, whose boast it
was that he had never been known to miss with Old
Betsy; Bonham, the fiery South Carolinian; and tall,
silent Colonel Bowie, as deadly as his terrible knife.

[155]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Crossing the river to the Alamo, an abandoned
mission, deeming it better suited to defense, the
garrison jeered at Santa Anna's summons to sur-
render. Only one hundred and eighty-two men
crouched behind the walls, and against them was an
army of six thousand, yet a shout of defiance went up
as the Mexican bands blared the deguello, a barbaric
air signifying "no quarter/' Escape was open to
them np to the last, but they laughed their scorn of
death, and for eleven days and nights repelled every
assault. In the early dawn of March sixth the walls
were carried by a final desperate charge, and the few
remaining defenders died with corpses piled high
about them.

Well indeed was Texas entitled to cry to the
world, "Thermopylae had its messenger of defeat; the
Alamo had none." The bodies were piled on brush-
wood and burned, and Santa Anna modestly received
congratulations upon having "bound his temples with
laurels of unwithering fame."

Nor was this the full measure of Texan disaster.
Doctor Grant's party, muddling around San Patricio
with their mad project of invading Mexico, were cap-
tured, and a hundred men shot down, the luckless
leader meeting death tied to the heels of a wild horse.

On March first, while the tragedy of the Alamo
played to its grim conclusion, regularly-elected repre-
sentatives gathered in the town of "Washington, and
after solemn recitation of wrongs, proclaimed Texas
"a free, sovereign and independent republic."

There were less than fifty thousand people in
Texas at the time, and it was a nation that they
challenged, but they faced odds with the same iron
courage that had made them masters of the wilderness.

Houston, restored to command, hurried to the

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TEE PLAYBOY OF TEE PLAINS

relief of the Alamo, only to receive tlie news of its
fall, and the ghastly details of the Grant massacre*
Seeing that his one chance was to lure Santa Anna into
the morasses of the interior, away from his supplies,
Houston fell back to the Colorado Biver, and rushed
couriers to Goliad, ordering Fannin to blow up the
fort and join him at once.

Instead of that, the reckless captain scattered his
men on wild-goose chases, handing them over to
capture by the Mexicans, and not until six days had
passed did he set out himself. Surrounded in the
open prairie, he fought a day and a night, only sur-
rendering when assured the treatment of prisoners
of war.

General Urrea may have meant to keep his word,
but there was a tiger quality in Santa Anna that
demanded blood. By his orders the prisoners were
gathered together at Goliad all those gallant young
adventurers who had entered Texas with such high
hearts ; and on the day they expected to be exchanged,
Mexican troops opened fire, and three hundred and
ninety were shot down like sheep. The wounded
Fannin, saved to the last, begged not to be shot
through the head, but bullets tore his face to pieces*

Terror swept Texas like a prairie fire. The
American volunteers, from whom so much had been
toped, were wiped out; the best and bravest of the
colonists lay dead and charred in the ruins of the
Alamo, and with desperate intent to save his own,
every Texan left the army to fight with his back
against hi? menaced home.

Houston did not dare give battle except on his own
terms, and accompanied by a few ragged hundreds, he
fell back to the Brazos, begging and beseeching the
council for food and supplies.

[157]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

All the money that lie possessed for the campaign
was two hundred dollars of his own private funds;
there was little to eat, and no tents to protect against
the rain; night after night the wretched company
perched on saddles to keep dry, dozing miserably with
their backs against trees.

Houston's one hope was that Santa Anna might
be so insane as to pursue, and Ms faith was not mis-
placed, for when it came to displaying incompetence,
the Dictator could always be depended upon. Scatter-
ing his army far and wide, the master mountebank
plunged into the interior, vowing a war of extermina-
tion.

San Felipe de Austin and Harrisburg went up in
flames, and as Houston still retreated, the rage of the
people scourged him, and his own men threatened
mutiny. Was he coward or fool that he refused to
make a stand? Yet as he reported in a heart-broken
letter, ""What has been my situation? At Q-onzales I
had three hundred and seventy-four efficient men with-
out supplies, not even powder, balls or arms. At the
Colorado, seven hundred men without discipline. Two
days since my effective force was five hundred and
twenty-three men."

Closing his ears to taunts, beating his men down
with a lion-like glare, he fell back to the San Jacinto,
drawing Santa Anna on and on. This was the revolu-
tion, according to history, that was fought and financed
by the men and money of the United States for the
extension of slavery this starving, desperate rabble
racing before an army!

At last, when his rebellious men were about to
depose him, Houston received word that Santa Anna,
at the head of one thousand six hundred men, had
crossed Vince's Bridge, entering a natural cul de sac

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THE PLAYBOY OF TEE PLAINS

formed "by Buffalo Bayou and the San Jacinto River.
Behind Mm at Fort Bond the fool had left General
Filisola and four thousand men.

It was the moment for which Houston had waited,
and, with caution no longer a necessity, all that was
hot and intense in that wild nature flamed to the sur-
face. What though he had at his command only seven
hundred and eighty-three men, worn to the bone by
hardship? What though his artillery consisted of two
small cannon the gift of Cincinnati with only
broken horseshoes for ammunition? All that he saw
was the throat of his foe.

Driving his scarecrows to the work of building
rafts, he crossed the Bayou, sent "Deaf" Smith to
cut Vince's Bridge, so that it might be a fight to
the death, and ordered his solitary fife to sound the
charge.

"Will you come to the bower I have shaded for
you?" was the only tune the fifer knew, but as the
men leaped forward, Houston cried in his great, roar-
ing voice, "Remember the Alamo!" and that cry had
the inspiration of a thousand bugles.

There on that sunny afternoon of April 22, 1836,
there was slaughter grim and terrible. Charging with
a ferocity that swept the Mexicans into panic, the
Texans threw away their rifles at the first fire, and
came to close quarters with their long knives. By the
time a white flag waved, six hundred and thirty of
Santa Anna's men lay dead on the ground, two hun-
dred and eight were wounded and seven hundred and
thirty were grouped in abject surrender.

The following day the Dictator himself was cap-
tured as he wormed through the grass in peon dress.
The shivering wretch could not control his hysteria
until he had been given opium from his captured sup-

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SONS OF THE EAGLE

plies, but something of Ms old assurance returned
with tlie drug.

"Yon, sir," lie said with a grandiloquent flourish,
"are born to no common destiny, for you have cap-
tured the Napoleon of the Western world."

Houston, lying at the foot of a tree, his ankle
shattered by a bullet, pierced the little murderer with
a glare that froze his marrow. What of the Alamo
and Groliad? What of their brothers that he had
butchered in cold blood? Nevertheless, the Mexican
murderer had surrendered as a prisoner of war, and
Houston threw Ms own honor about the assassin as
a sMeld.

Santa Anna, in solemn treaty, acknowledged the
independence of Texas, recognized the Eio Grande
as the boundary, and pledged himself to force the
ratification of these agreements if permitted to return
to Mexico.

On September first, Sam Houston, once Co-lon-neh
the Eover, once the Big Drunk, was elected president
of the Eepublic of Texas, and a year later there was a
request for annexation to the United States. It was
refused, and Houston, angry and chagrined, set him-
self to work to put foundations under the Texas air-
castle. Organizing a financial system, building an
army, creating a navy, sending Ms ministers to
foreign courts, he walked the muddy lanes in Ms red
blanket and dreamed great dreams.

Great Britain and France, hating the United
States and eager for the cotton fields of Texas, offered
offensive and defensive alliances; Coahuila, Tamauli-
pas and other North Mexico states sent agents propos-
ing a Eio Grande confederacy; Houston knew that
Mexican rule was a mere shadow in New Mexico and
California, and the sMning vision took shape of an

[160]

TEE PLAYBOY OF TEE PLAINS

empire stretching to the far Pacific. "When he re-
turned to the presidency in 1841, however, called back
to bring order out of chaos, his clear mind was forced
to recognize impossibilities.

Seven hundred miles of Texas frontier were ex-
posed to Indian raids ; six hundred miles of border to
Mexican forays; and the cost of this burden of con-
tinual warfare was a burden too crushing to be borne.

When the United States agreed to annexation in
1845, the people of the Lone Star accepted with a
feeling of relief, if not thankfulness.

Houston was sent to Washington as the first
senator from the new state, wearing a blanket as in
the days when President Jackson exclaimed, " Thank
God, there is one man, at least, that the Almighty had
the making of, not the tailor." Now and then he rose
in his place and spoke words that bit to the very heart
of the subject ; but for the most part he whittled, bored
and sickened by the incessant clack of soft-handed,
mealy-mouthed politicians who only Imew of life by
hearsay.

Loved and venerated by every man, woman and
child in Texas, no future seemed more assured, yet
ruin and heartbreak were to be the portion of his
latter years. Hating slavery this man that history
charges with being "head devil of the slave in-
terests" and loving the Union with an almost
mystical passion, Houston fought with all his might
to beat back the rising tide of secession. Leaving the
Senate in 1859, after twelve years of service, he threw
himself into the battle for his state, and ran for
governor on an anti-secession platform. The whole
force of public sentiment was arraigned against him,
yet such was the magnetism of the man, that he was
elected,

[161]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

Only for a while was San Jacinto remembered. In
1861, when Jefferson Davis called the South to a new
allegiance, Texas answered with a wild shout.
Houston refused to follow and they deposed him. Of
a sudden he fell old* The wound received at Tohopeka
reopened, and the ankle shattered at San Jacinto
forced him to hobble with a crutch. Broken in spirit
as well as health, lonely and very poor, he sat watch-
ing the fratricidal struggle with sick eyes, and there
can be no doubt that he was glad when death closed
them in 1863,

[162]

XIV

"OLD BOUGH ASTD BEADY "

SHOET-LEGGED, barrel-chested, bull-headed old
Zachary Taylor, viewed casually, cut anything but a
romantic figure, yet never was mortal man more the
object of Fortune's infatuation. Famous statesmen
and great soldiers were kicked aside that he might
rise; whether in war or politics, his deficiencies and
inefficiencies were transformed into shining virtues,
and mistakes that would have ruined another became
his stepping stones to glory.

The Mexican War, that lifted "Old Bough and
Beady 77 from the shadows, was in itself a whirligig
of crazy circumstances, an Alice-in-Blunderland ad-
venture from start to finish. For nine years Texas
had been a sovereign republic, her navy on the high
seas, her ministers at foreign courts, admittedly the
arbiter of her own destinies, yet when she asked and
received admission to the Union in 1845, Mexico
emitted furious screams and declared annexation an
act of war.

James K. Polt, just entering office, viewed this
bellicose front with amazement and downright alarm.
It was not only that the United States lacked an army
and a navy; war with England over Oregon seemed
imminent, and France was suspected of moving slyly
toward the acquisition of California.

Throwing pride to one side, therefore, the harassed
President, working through confidential channels,
gained Mexico's consent to receive a minister charged

[163]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

with the restoration of peace and good will, and John
Slidell was hurried off on this errand of amity.

SlidelPs instructions were explicit the right of
the United States to annex Texas could not be deemed
a subject of discussion, and the Eio Grande must be
accepted as a boundary but he was empowered to
pay Mexico five million dollars as a salve for her
wounded feelings, and to offer twenty-five million
dollars for California, if the province was up for sale.
Owing to the outcry of Mexican politicians, however,
President Herrera was forced to repudiate Slidell,
yield to the war party and send General Paredes to
the Eio Grande with six thousand men.

The worthy Paredes, instead of marching, used the
troops to depose Herrera, charging that he sought "to
avoid a necessary and glorious war," whereupon Polk
ordered Slidell to beg negotiations with the new
government.

By now the whole of Mexico was mad for war.
England and France would undoubtedly furnish
money and materials ; the assistance of Latin America
could surely be counted upon to defeat "the ever
monstrous greed of the Colossus of the North ;"
European military experts ridiculed the Americans as
undisciplined and untrained, "fit only for Indian
fighting,*' and Mexico was impregnable by land and
sea ; a Mexican army of invasion could rely upon the
support of two million slaves, and it would only be a
matter of weeks before the Mexican flag floated above
"the ancient palace of George Washington."

Drunk with vanity, Paredes sent Slidell out of the
country on March 21 7 1846, and hurried General Arista
to the Eio Grande with these instructions: "It is in-
dispensable that hostilities begin, yourself taking the
initiative,"

[164]

"OLD ROUGH AND READY"

Folk's defensive step was to send General Zachary
Taylor into Texas with orders to " repel invasion, but
at the same time to avoid any acts of aggression. "
This grizzled old warrior, sixty-one years of age,
happened to be in command of the Department of the
Southwest, and with a sigh he left his shady porch,
lumbering to Corpus Christi at the head of some one
thousand five hundred men.

In March, 1846, with SlidelPs rejection a certainty,
and Mexican troops massing at the border, Taylor
marched to the Eio Grande, pitching Fort Brown
opposite Matamoros, and establishing a supply depot
at Point Isabel, thirty miles away on the Gulf.

Here he emphasized his "essentially pacific pur-
poses/' and tried hard to work out a truce until the
two governments settled matters, but General Mejia
spat insults ; General Ampudia, who succeeded Mejia,
was famous for having fried a captive's head, and had
his reputation to live up to; and General Arista,
arriving on April twenty-fourth to supersede
Ampudia, was under explicit orders to start the war
at once. Crossing the Eio Grande with one thousand
six hundred cavalry, the obliging Arista captured
Captain Thornton and a scouting party of sixty
dragoons, killing several in the process, whereat
General Taylor reluctantly reported, "Hostilities may
now be considered as commenced."

Zachary had the true frontiersman's contempt for
"book soldiers. " About him were West Point
graduates destined to become the great military
scientists of their day IL S. Grant, W. T. Sherman,
George B. Meade, Joe Hooker, Braxton Bragg, Albert
Sidney Johnston, and "Chickamauga" Thomas but
Taylor would have none of their advice. Brave as a
lion himself; with him war was a matter of coming to

[165]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

grips and letting the best man win. At every point
lie blundered, and all that saved him was Arista's
superior incompetence.

On May eighth, with two thousand two hundred
and twenty-eight men, encumbered by his wagons,
Taylor ran squarely into the Mexican army of sis
thousand at Palo Alto. His first idea was to " fight
'em with bay'nits," and only the pleas of his officers
induced him to see the wisdom of using artillery.
Arista, with his vastly superior force, might have won
the day by a series of charges, but he foolishly chose
to engage in an artillery duel, although the first ex-
change proved that his worn-out guns could not even
carry to the American line. All afternoon he held his
men as a stationary target for the deadly fire of Ring-
gold and Duncan, and as Ampudia circulated the
report that Arista had betrayed them, the Mexicans
broke and fled.

There was no pursuit. Taylor was busy with his
wagons and his men were exhausted. By noon of
May ninth Arista had taken a strong position in the
heart of the chaparral at Eesaca de la Palma, three
miles nearer Matamoros.

Again the Mexicans fought like tigers, and again
cowardly leadership lost the day for them. As at
Palo Alto, Old Eough and Eeady was in the heart of
the conflict, cool as a cucumber in his flapping linen
pantaloons and big straw hat; and when he roared,
"Take them guns, an' by God, 'keep ? em!" his men
had the conviction that he would thrash them per-
sonally if they failed.

On the Mexican side, officers deserted at the critical
moment as usual, the whole right wing crumbled, and
Arista and Ampudia led a panic flight to the Eio
Grande, where many drowned in crossing the river.

[166]

"OLD BOUGH AND READY"

Polk, receiving news of the capture of Thornton
and Ms men, sent a message to Congress on May
eleventh that cried, "Mexico has passed the boundary
of the United States, has invaded our territory, and
shed American blood upon the American, soil. . ,. .
War exists, and notwithstanding all our efforts to
avoid it, exists by the act of Mexico hers elf. "

Congress voted fifty thousand men and ten million
dollars, but along with these preparations Polk de-
clared this promise to Mexico and to the world;
"Whilst we intend to prosecute the war with
vigor, both by land and by sea, we shall bear the olive
branch in one hand, and the sword in the other; and
whenever she will accept the former, we shall sheathe
the latter,"

Meanwhile unhappy Mexico plunged still more
wildly to her ruin. Palo Alto and Eesaca de la Palma
chilled the enthusiasm of England, France and Spain,
and there was an end to hope of foreign assistance.
Domestic dissension added to despair, for the drunken
Paredes was thrown out of office by his own soldiers,
and Santa Anna, exiled in 1845 for his incredible
rapacities and corruptions, returned from Havana as
"The Defender of the People."

Gambling everything upon one great victory that
would enable him to accept Folk's peace proposals as
"Yankee capitulation," the Master Charlatan gath-
ered a new army at San Luis Potosi, and set out in
September to give battle to Taylor.

All this while Old Bough and Eeady had sat idle
in Matamoros, and it was not until August that he
heaved his bulky figure from his favorite cracker box,
and decided to proceed against Monterey. With a
dislike of intelligent suggestion that amounted to
mania, he refused to take siege guns, scorned the use

[167]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

of scouts, and, although, fifteen thousand soldiers were
now at hand, "guessed" that sis thousand was
"plenty."

He would have proved easy prey to the Mexican
cavalry, but these rascals, instead of preparing
ambushes, were busy pillaging their own people.

Monterey, with its strong walls and hill fortresses,
was an almost impregnable position, but Taylor
treated the whole affair as an "Injun fight," and was
all for an instant and direct attack. Finally yielding
to the entreaties of his officers, he ordered a flanMng
movement, and on Sunday afternoon, September
twentieth, General Worth and two thousand men
commenced a nightmare climb along the mountain
sides.

Although the movement was in plain view, General
Ampudia waited until Monday morning to launch an
attack, but sending only half of the necessary number
of men, the charge was beaten back with terrible loss.

Wading the swift Santa Catarina, fiery Worth
attacked Federation Kidge from the rear, carrying
the summit by four in the afternoon and capturing
El Soldado. That night, under cover of a violent
storm, he led his shivering soldiers against Independ-
ence Hill, deemed absolutely unassailable.

Clawing, pulling, hauling, straight up the sheer
mountain wall the Americans made their bloody,
laborious way and at dawn they fell upon the summit
as though dropped from the clouds. By afternoon the
Bishop's Palace was also in their hands.

Not one vestige of credit is to be taken away from
these heroes, yet the fact remains that their success
was due to pitifully inadequate garrisoning.

Returning to Taylor, the stubborn, wilful old man
took the bit in Ms teeth after a day of inaction, and

[168]

"OLD ROUGH AND READY"

ordered an assault, telling- Colonel Garland to "lead
the head of your column off to the left, keepin' well
out of the enemy 's shot, an' if you think you can take
any of them little forts down there with the bay 'nit,
you better do it."

When Garland fell back at last, most of his men
were left behind; Bragg 's artillery proved helpless in
the maze of lanes; supporting troops were mowed
down; and even the bull voice of Old Eough and
Beady, cheering his men on, could not avail against
stone walls and murderous rifle fire. The whole
attack fell into wildest confusion, and at five o'clock,
retreat ended the day.

Doing nothing on Tuesday, by way of recuperating
Ms energies, Taylor charged again on "Wednesday,
hurling his infantry against protected positions that
proper artillery could have demolished without the
loss of a man.

By three o'clock the Americans were within one
square of the central plaza, Lieutenant IT. S. Grant
and Colonel Jefferson Davis playing heroes' parts in
the stubborn advance, when suddenly Taylor ordered
a withdrawal.

Worth, waiting feverishly and vainly for some
word, could not control himself at the noise of Wednes-
day's battle and dashing down from the Bishop's
Palace, entered Monterey at the west just as Old
Eough and Eeady went out on the east.

Ampudia hurled his full strength against the new
attack, but the wild Texans fought like unchained
devils. Working their way from house to house,
smashing walls with six-inch shells, the Americans
were close to the plaza by nightfall.

Even so, Thursday's dawn showed black and
'ominous. Ampudia still had seven thousand effec-

[169]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

tives, and the Americans were scattered in small
groups. The Mexican general, however, now came
forward with a white flag, requesting parley. A quick
mind would have divined the panic behind the offer,
but Old Bough and Ready not only permitted Ampudia
to withdraw, exacting no paroles, but agreed to an
eight weeks ' armistice.

This was not the end of Taylor's antics, for in
November he announced his theory of a purely defen-
sive war. He would run a line from Parras to
Tampico eight hundred miles hold Tamaulipas,
Coahuila, and Nuevo Leon to pay indemnities, and put
the burden of offense upon the Mexicans. Naturally
enough, Polk and his advisers went sick with rage.

By now Old Eough and Eeady was openly in the
race for the Whig nomination, and with natural
kindliness thoroughly curdled, fought the administra-
tion by every means in his power. "When men were
sent him, he sneered that there was nothing for them
to do; if they were not sent, he cried that "Polk,
Marcy and Company " were betraying him; every
member of the Cabinet was a "meddler," a "rascal";
and daily he moaned about the conspiracy of "evil

men."

For months General Winfield Scott had been
urging the capture of Vera Cruz as the first movement
in a march on the City of Mexico, and Polk, at his wits
end, now gave consent. As the approach of the yellow
fever season forced speed, it was decided to take eight
thousand of Taylor's veterans, a necessity that Scott
explained fully in a friendly letter.

Old Rough and Eeady had insisted upon being
allowed to wage a defensive campaign, and the nine
thousand men left him were ample for his garrisons,
but when this news came, he shook the heavens with

[170]

"OLD ROUGH AND READY"

his screams. Announcing Ms presidential candidacy,
he called Scott a "humbug," berated Polk, and, in flat
violation of Ms orders not to risk an advance, inarched
off into the interior, angrily hunting the enemy. If
he won, it would prove him a Napoleon, able to con-
quer in spite of betrayal ; if he lost, blame would fall
on the "evil men" who had stripped him of his troops.
Taking only five thousand of his nine thousand men,
he reached the valley of Agua Nueva by February 4,
1847, and sat down until such time as an idea came
to him.

When Santa Anna learned that Taylor had left
the fortifications of Saltillo and Monterey with only
five thousand men, he burned candles on every altar
in San Luis Potosi. At last the gods of chance smiled
on him, and at the head of twenty-five thousand men,
the Great Gambler set forth to win the victory that
Ms tottering fortunes demanded. As he had failed to
provide tents and supplies, death and desertion re-
duced the army to seventeen thousand by the time
Agua Nueva was reached, and the survivors were
weak from cold and hunger. Even so, he would have
won had he charged at once, for Taylor was caught by
surprise, but he wasted a day in flourishes and bom-
bast.

At dawn on February twenty-second the two
armies grappled in a struggle to the death. For the
most part it was a battle of blunders Santa Anna
doing nothing that he should have done, and Taylor
doing everytMng that he should not have done. But
the courage of Old Bough and Eeady turned the
balance in favor of the Americans. Lolling on Ms
horse as in a rocking chair, careless of the bullets that
pierced his very clothes, his laconic "Give 'em hell!"
fired every soldier with a conviction of invincibility.

[171]

SON8 OF THE EAGLE

Both sides were defeated when night fell, but while
Old Rough and Beady still roared an undaunted
challenge, Santa Anna's spirit was broken. Carrying
some captured banners in order to claim a victory,
the hysterical drug fiend slipped away under cover
of darkness.

In the great gamble of the two generals, Santa
Anna had lost a war and Taylor had won a presidency,

In the first days of the war, when enthusiasm, ran
high, the "Whigs were as militant as any, but as war
feeling died down in the idle months that followed
Monterey, the whole party leaped forward in vicious
attack. Controlled by the New England manufac-
turers, they hated Polk for his low tariff policy, and
resolved upon his ruin.

At once the war against Mexico became a thing of
evil and injustice.

Daniel Webster and Henry Clay, the two foremost
candidates for the Whig nomination, vied with one
another in swallowing both their honor and their
records. As Secretary of State, Webster had con-
ducted the correspondence in 1842 that affirmed the
right of Texas to decide her own destiny, but now
that Mexico was fighting because of annexation, he
assailed Polk for having forced Mexico into war, and
gravely declared MID guilty of "an impeachable
defense. ' '

Clay, ignoring Polk's frantic efforts for peace, in-
sisted that the President's aggressions had plunged
the country into an unholy conflict.

Polk had not been the choice of his party, and had
further offended in the matter of patronage, so that
the Democrats gave him small support, and all the
politicians were drawn together in a common bond of
hatred when the President courageously vetoed an
outrageous Rivers and Harbors Bill.

[172]

"OLD ROUGH AND READY"

Congress, meeting in December, presented the
edifying spectacle of the House branding the war as
"unnecessary and unconstitutional, " and then defeat-
ing a motion to withdraw troops by a vote of one
hundred and thirty-seven to forty-one.

Taylor's great victory at Buena Vista, followed
by Scott *s capture of Vera Cruz and his epic march
to the City of Mexico, put an end to these incredible
meannesses.

Webster and Clay, caught in the web of their base
obstructions, were thrown aside by the party leaders,
and at the Whig convention in June, who should be
nominated but Old Eough and Eeady! What did it
matter that he was a southerner, a slave-holder, and
one who had stood steadfastly for the permanent re-
tention of three Mexican states Chihuahua, Coahuilla
and Tamaulipas? The "unholy war" was now a
"work of justice/' and the Whigs asked votes for
Zachary Taylor as one who had given a new glory to
the American flag.

Poor Polk, without a soul to speak in his defense,
sank into oblivion, and as Clay, Webster and John
Quincy Adams never took the trouble to retract their
war lies, their orations have been handed down to us
as history.

[173]

XV

THE GBEAT

AT.T, glory to Hernando Cortes, the Great Captain,
yet Ms conquest of Mexico was not more daring, more
shot through with courage and sheer genius, than
Winfield Scott's climb from Vera Cruz to the valley
that glittered like a jewel amid the volcanic peaks
eight thousand feet above.

Capturing the supposedly impregnable port,
guarded by the frowning guns of San Juan Ulua,
Scott led an ill-equipped army of twelve thousand
effectives against a population of seven millions not
the naked savages of Montezuma, ignorant of firearms
and weakened by their superstitious awe of the Fair
God, but a warrior people that had filled the world
with loud boasts of military superiority.

Up through grim mountain gorges the bold leader
marched, every pass a natural fortress ; worming his
painful way across chasms and through spiked chap-
arral for brilliant flank attacks; crushing superior
numbers at Cerro Gordo by fierce frontal assaults;
driving the enemy from stronghold after stronghold;
and entering Puebla, the City of the Angels, in a high
pride that took no account of rags and bare feet. A
halt, an offer of the olive branch, and then that last
fearless dash into the valley where towering Chapul-
tepec looked down on an army of thirty thousand,
crouched behind strong fortifications.

"Scott is lost!" cried the Duke of Wellington,

[174]

TEE GREAT GENTLEMAN

turning away from his map. "He can not capture the
City and lie can not fall back on liis base."

On plunged the .Americans, adoring their leader,
trusting him blindly; wading marshes that menacing
fortresses might be turned; crawling across great
lava beds in nights of storm ; fighting hand to hand in
the fierce struggles for breastworks; charging like
tigers up the steep slope of Chapultepec, shot pour-
ing down from above, mines beneath their feet ; racing
along narrow, gun-swept causeways to beat down the
gates of the city; and treading the ancient Aztec
capital as conquerors just seven months after the
landing at Vera Cruz.

A tremendous achievement, rich in honor and
glory, yet shamed in history by a series of those sinis-
ter fatalities that seemed to pursue Winfield Scott
throughout his life.

Much has been made of the Admirable Crichton
because he could speak many languages, compose
brilliant verse, argue down learned men and handle a
sword with the best. These things were only a few
of Scott's accomplishments.

There was nothing that he could not do, from
treading a measure to winning a war ; from basting a
fowl to writing a book. Six feet five inches tall, and
strikingly handsome after the Olympian manner, more
courtly than Lord Chesterfield, a Hannibal in strategy,
as profound a diplomat as Talleyrand, as much the
chevalier sans peur sans reproche as Bayard, Winfield
Sbott seemed born to dominate his day, taking unto
himself any honor that met his fancy.

It ^as, however, as though the fates repented their
favors in the very hour of bestowal and doomed "him
to defeat in every dear wish of his heart. In the
course of a heroic life that stretched from 1812 to

[175]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

1866, enmity and intrigue mocked Ms ambitions ; three
times lie was turned back from the presidency by men
vastly his inferior in every respect; and the one con-
solation permitted him was to live and die a gentleman.

The battles of Chippewa and Lundy's Lane were
two of the three land engagements that saved America
from utter humiliation in the "War of 1812. Young
Scott was the hero of both. And he wore the stars
of a major-general at twenty-eight. Once he was cap-
tured, and as the Indians pressed close to see by what
miracle he had escaped their bullets, we get the flavor
of the man in this stately exclamation : "Off, villains I
You shot like squaws/'

The Black Hawk War left many festering bitter-
nesses, but Scott's imperial presence awed Sacs, Foxes
and Winnebagoes into submission, even as his justice
won their friendship. When he awarded a medal to
some chief, it was with an air that gave each savage
a sense of ineffable favor and amazing honor.

The Seminole war of 1836 seemed an opportunity
for new glory, but it was Scott's misfortune to have
quarreled with Andrew Jackson nineteen years before.
Old Hickory was never one to forget, and before Scott
could launch his campaign the President removed him
for no better reason than the peevish whine of a sub-
ordinate. A court of inquiry cleared Scott completely,
but the great chance was lost, and his only joy was in
watching General Jessup crown inefficiency by shame-
less treachery. Fierce, untamable Osceola, coming to
the American, camp under a flag of truce, was arrested
and thrown in jail to die like a dog.

As tremendous as Jackson himself, Scott refused
to stay down; great and splendid services continued
to keep him before the people, as when he persuaded
fifteen thousand Cherokees to give up their threatened

[176]

TEE GREAT GENTLEMAN

recourse to arms and moved tliem peaceably to new
tomes west of the Mississippi. By every rule of
fitness lie should have been the Whig candidate for
president in 1840, but the politicians feared Ms inde-
pendence and high morality, and more than this, a
thinking campaign was not wanted. Simple old
William Henry Harrison was nominated, hard cider
put on tap in the open streets, and the whole nation
dragged into a drunken orgy.

So we come to the spring of 1846 when the country
roared its enthusiasm over Palo Alto and Eesaca de
la Palma where blundering Zachary Taylor had been
fortunate enough to meet superior incompetency. It
was not Old Bough and Eeady that the Democrats
feared, however, for he was looked on merely as a
backwoodsman remote from politics. Scott was their
bugbear. Already the Whig leaders had decided upon
TIITTI as their candidate in 1848, and Polk shivered at
the thought of giving a rival any chance of glory.
Scott's request to lead an expedition to Vera Cruz
was contemptuously refused, and skilled wits set about
the business of reducing him in public estimation.

Never was there a man more susceptible to attack.
The people's admiration for Scott had no base in real
liking, for he lacked utterly the physical boisterousness
and "easy-as-an-old-shoe" buncombe that have always
been confused with democracy* Stately in his
courtesy, ever the epitome of dignity, and as precisely
elegant in his dress as in his manners, he impressed
without appealing.

Slowly, subtly, his grand air was made to seem
mere strutting, his dignity attacked as pompousness,
his courtesy and elegances derided as conceit and af-
fectation, and in a little while a giggling public joined
in calling him "Old Fuss and Feathers."

[177]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

When lie prepared careful plans of campaign, lie
was a "book soldier, " "an old granny," and if lie
showed resentment at these constant attacks, it was
disloyalty and insubordination. The Democrats made
a thorough job of it, so complete, in fact, that the
Whigs abandoned "bvrn as a candidate, and even his
friends began to edge away.

In November, however, the elections went against
the Democrats ; Taylor, by turns sulky and domineer-
ing, dawdled in Monterey, doing nothing, and Polk
and his advisers came to the sad realization that the
war must be pushed and brought to an end if Demo-
cratic disaster was to be averted* Necessarily, Scott's
intelligent suggestion of an attack upon Vera Cruz had
to be adopted and after a feverish survey of the entire
field, Scott himself had to be put in command. How-
ever, there was the comforting conviction that he had
been "killed oflf " as a presidential possibility, and the
hope that he might dim the glory of Old Eough and
Eeady, a candidate for the Whig nomination.

Free at last from the cords of the Lilliputians,
Scott moved with speed and precision, and after well-
nigh insuperable obstacles in the matter of transporta-
tion, supplies and munitions, came before Vera Cruz
on March fifth with ten thousand men.

There was no time for a siege, as the season of the
dread vomito was at hand, nor was there any large
hope of success from an attack by sea. At dawn on
the ninth, therefore, Scott began the work of landing
his men at a point three miles from the city, and by
midnight all were on shore without a single fatality.

Working under cover of darkness, heavy batteries
were swung into position, and when a demand for
surrender was refused on the twenty-second, bombard-
ment began. For four days and nights a rain of lead

[178]

THE GREAT GENTLEMAN

beat down on San Juan Ulna and the city, and at tHe
end the white flag flew from the battlements.

All Mexico was stunned. Santa Anna, returning to
his capital after the disastrous defeat at Buena Vista,
fell into a frenzy that not even opium could soothe,
denouncing the "shameful surrender 5 ' and bellowing
to his people: "A sepulchre opens at your feet. Let
it at least he covered with laurel." Forcing a huge
"loan" from the church, and gathering a new army,
the master mountebank hurried to check any further
advance, confident that the Americans could be shot
down like cattle in the mountain passes.

As for Scott, he was indeed between the devil and
the deep sea. To stay in Vera Cruz was to have Ms
men die like flies from yellow fever, but to penetrate
the heart of the country seemed no less certain death.
The bold way was ever Scott's way, and with one of
his imperial gestures, he flung his defiance at the
mountain wall, and on April twelfth set out to follow
the footsteps of Cortes.

As the hot coastal plain fell behind, the Americans
walked through scenes of ever-changing beauty, gay
as larks. But at Cerro Gordo, there fell a heavy
silence. On one side of the road were frowning
precipices, on the other yawning chasms, and from
the summits of two towering hills La Atalaya and
El Telegrafo Santa Anna and an army of sixteen
thousand commanded every approach.

Scott gave them back their confidence. As huge
and granite-like as the mountains about him, he
studied his plan of battle as though it were no more
than a chess problem, finally deciding that the one
chance was to turn Santa Anna's left and gain the
Mexican rear. The Dictator had not troubled to guard
this approach, insisting that not even a goat could

[179]

80N8 OF TEE EAGLE

reach Mm from that direction, but Captain Robert E.
Lee and Ms engineers, scrambling through, the night,
fonnd a way. On the seventeenth a whirlwind attack
carried La Atalaya, and at dawn on the morning of
the eighteenth, Scott ordered a charge against the
height of El Telegraf o.

There were only a handful of .Americans (scarce
three hundred in that first staggering, exhausted
detachment), and facing them were batteries and two
thousand cavalry, but with reckless fury they leaped
to the combat, bayonets leveled, waking the echoes
with their yells.

The very madness of the tMng was its success*
Convinced that an army must be following, cowardly
Santa Anna fled for his life, and Canalizo, "the Lion
of Mexico, " matched him in speed. The panic spread
to the leaderless men, and by ten o'clock, General
Scott, the tears rolling down his furrowed cheeks, was
embracing his commanders and comforting the
wounded with praise of their heroism. Even with
such a victory, Scott's plight was desperate. Three
thousand prisoners had to be released because he
could not guard them; the expiration of enlistments
reduced Ms force to five thousand; the rainy season
was coming on, and Ms supplies were running low.

Unlike Old Rough and Eeady he did not whine and
snarl about " abandonment and betrayal," though
bitterness must have filled Ms heart, and it was with
his usual gracious imperturbability that he ordered
an advance, putting away all thought of retreat.

Puebla offered no resistance, for Santa Anna's
flying soldiers had stopped long enough to tell of
Yankee courage, and from the City of the Angels,
Scott begged his government to rush the long-
promised men and supplies.

[180]

TEE GREAT GENTLEMAN

Reinforcements dribbled in with exasperating
slowness, but by August he had ten thousand effec-
tives, and feared to wait longer. Again the Mexicans
were offered peace, but when they spat upon his olive
branch, Scott's bugles sounded and a great cheer
shook the ranks as the men set forth for "a party in
the halls of the Montezumas." Then it was that
Wellington cried " Scott is lost," for this little force,
departing from their base, were charging an army of
thirty thousand, strongly intrenched, and backed by
a population of seven millions.

August twelfth saw them looking down on the
Valley of Mexico, jeweled with gleaming lakes, the
hill of Chapultepec standing in its center like some
vast sentinel. Now was their way barred, for strong
fortifications guarded every approach that seemed
humanly possible, but Scott swept the scene with hawk
eye, and then plunged his men into the marshes, wad-
ing twenty-seven long, wet miles to San Augustin, a
suburb south of the city.

Once again the "accursed Yankees " had refused
to conform to Santa Anna's plans, and the frantic
Dictator was compelled to reorganize his entire
scheme of defense. From San Augnstin the one fair
way to the city was the Acapulco road, and out of tHe
conviction that Scott must choose this route, Santa
Anna fortified San Antonio, and where the highway
crossed the Churubusco River, made the convent of
San Pablo over into a fort, and put men and guns at
the bridge-head.

As at Cerro Gordo, Scott sent invaluable young
Captain Lee on an errand of reconnaissance, and he
reported that a way could be made across the pedregal,
a bleak, terrible stretch of lava vomited from Mount
Ajusco some seven thousand years before. Under

[181]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

cover of darkness the movement was carried out on
the nineteenth & furious storm making every step a
stumble and by midnight four thousand two hundred
Americans were gathered at the hamlet of San
G-eronimo, well in the rear of General Valencia, an
incompetent sot who fancied himself a Caesar. Cap-
tain Lee, feeling Ms way back across the pedregal,
carried the news to Scott and arranged for a frontal
attack at dawn.

At three o'clock a whispered order went down the
line, and after four hours of exhausting struggle
through wind and rain, up a boulder-strewn ravine,
firm ground was gained. A moment for breath and
then a charge that had the fury of a spear thrust I

In seventeen minutes by the watch the Battle of
Contreras was over and the Mexicans were in flight,
leaving seven hundred dead, and Santa Anna, coming
up with belated reinforcements, met only a stream of
fugitives.

Scott, grasping the situation with his usual genius,
followed the stroke by racing his men to Churubusco,
but here he met Mexican valor at its best. Charge
after charge was driven back, time after time it
seemed that the Americans must confess defeat, but
at last a flanking movement won the bridge-head, and
only the convent kept up the battle.

Even when the last gun was out of commission,
and not a cartridge remained, the heroic garrison
refused to ask quarter, and it was an American who
waved his handkerchief to stop the useless slaughter.
Of Santa Anna's army of thirty thousand, less than
twenty thousand followed the crazed Dictator into the
city that night.

Facing a demoralized enemy, the "halls of the
Montezumas" were Scott's for the taking, but when

[182]

TEE GREAT GENTLEMAN

an armistice was asked, he put glory aside in tHe
interests of peace. For eleven days it seemed as if
the war would be brought to an end, but on September
sixth, Santa Anna brought discussions to an abrupt
close.

He knew that peace meant his own elimination; he
knew also that Scott's army had been reduced to eight
thousand effectives, and that his supplies were run-
ning low ; working secretly under cover of the armis-
tice, the Dictator had strengthened fortifications and
welded a new army, and with these advantages exciting
him, the half -crazy drug fiend determined to risk a last
throw of the dice. The people were called upon to ex-
terminate the vile invaders, and on every hand, insane
national vanity regained its normal inflammation.

As a matter of fact, Mexican confidence had firm
ground, for annihilation of the little army of invaders
would have been certain had Scott been less of a
soldier and Santa Anna less of a craven and fool.

Serene, stately, dispensing his morning salutations
with all the effect of decorations, the great American
commander thought carefully and then struck boldly.
Deceiving Santa Anna by feints against the southern
gates, on the morning of September eighth he launched
an attack upon Casa Mata and El Molino del Eey,
two strong positions, and won them both after a day
of furious fighting. Even so, it was a dear-bought
victory, and with forces reduced to seven thousand,
Scott sat long into the night, weighing the decision
that might well mean defeat and extermination.

Two approaches to the city presented themselves,
one from the south, the other from the west. Chapul-
tepec guarded the latter, and confiding in the strength
of this fortress, Santa Anna occupied himself with
protecting the southern gateways.

[183]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Again Scott refused to conform to tlie Dictator's
ideas of how a battle should be conducted, and after
feinting at the southern portals, threw his little army
against Chapultepec on the morning of the twelfth.
All day his guns rained lead upon the summit, but that
night, when decision was made to storm at dawn, the
venture was so desperate that Scott asked for volun-
teers.

Two hours of heavy cannonading preceded the
assault, and then Worth 's and Pillow's divisions
sprang forward, charging through the great cypress
grove that had shaded Montezuma, careless of the shot
that tore their ranks, carrying redoubts and stoppin'g
only at the walls. The promised scaling ladders were
not on hand, and there were minutes of sick suspense,
for every inch of the ground was known to be mined.
The mines failed to explode, however, the ladders
arrived at last, and with a wild shout the height was
carried.

Racing along the causeways that led to the city,
the Americans flung themselves against the gates with
resistless fury. U. S. Grant, " Stonewall " Jackson,
Lee, Pickett, Longstreet, Beauregard, McClellan all
to face one another as foes at a later day were joined
in that plunging attack, wading ditches through
deadly fire, burrowing from house to house, fighting
hand to hand on housetops.

To Scott the night was one of gloom as well as
glory. The day's fighting had reduced his effectives
to five thousand, and Santa Anna still had twelve
thousand men and the people of the city. The
Dictator, however, was without stomach for further
fighting, and after calling upon the gods to witness
Ms own courage and devotion, slipped away to
Guadalupe with his battered troops.

[184]

TEE GREAT GENTLEMAN

At dawn the city council came with a white flag,
and Scott, pausing only to array himself in full uni-
form, rode to the palace and took formal possession
of the "halls of the Montezumas."

A treaty of peace, signed February 2, 1848, gave
the United States clear title to Texas, upper Cali-
fornia and New Mexico, and in return for amicable
acceptance of American ownership, the Mexicans were
given a total of twenty million, two hundred and nine-
ty-eight thousand dollars in cash.

The terms were generous beyond expectation.
Texas had won her own independence, and for nine
years had made good her sovereign claims to the Eio
Grande as a boundary. As for California and New
Mexico, Mexican rule had been but a shadow in either
province, both surrendering to American arms in 1846
with scarce a struggle. As for the war, it had been
forced by Mexico herself, and three separate times
she had refused Folk's offer of peace once after
Monterey, again after Cerro Gordo, and the third time
after Contreras and Churubusco.

Europe had no other idea than that the United
States would keep Chihuahua, Coahuila, and Tamauli-
pas, since Mexico could pay no indemnity. Instead of
that, we turned back the three states, surrendered the
seven ports that our navy occupied, and gave the
defeated foe a princely ium for her rehabilitation and
good will.

During the negotiations Scott restored order to the
distracted country by wise, benevolent administration,
but all the while knives were at his back. General
Pillow, a prize marplot, kept busy with Ms intrigues,
and when Scott took steps to scotch the conspiracy of
lies, he was relieved of command by Folk's orders
"turned out as an old horse to die," cried Eobert E.

[185]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Lee in the bitterness of his spirit. Pillow, "Worth and
Duncan, the arrested officers, were restored to com-
mands and honors without a trial, while Scott was
dragged through a humiliating " inquiry " by sub-
ordinates.

A wave of generous emotion swept the United
States, calling a halt on the persecution, but like most
public enthusiasms, it was short-lived. The Whigs
rallied to Zachary Taylor as their standard bearer,
and naturally took pains that praise of Scott should
not dim the glory of Old Eough and Keady. Again, in
1852, when he was given the Whig nomination and
victory seemed certain, envious Fillmore and sulking
Webster "bolted" the ticket, and he was beaten
humiliatingly beaten by Franklin Pierce, famous
only for having served under Scott in Mexico.

Through it all he remained the Great Gentleman,
suffering defeat, abuse, treachery and betrayal with-
out a lowering of his proud crest, without abatement
of his stately courtesy. It was his wish to have died
before his country flamed into fratricidal strife, but
the grief was not spared him. Yet when the Civil War
came, he set himself to the defense of the Union with
much of his old fire. But he was now seventy-five.
The hardships of campaigns and old wounds were be-
ginning to tell on even his iron frame, and in October
of 1861 he was forced to admit his infirmities.

It was his dear wish to pass the high command to
Lee, best loved and most admired of all the many that
had served under him but the Virginian sadly de-
clared that he must follow his state.

One gracious act sweetened these bitter days. The
morning after Scott's retirement, Abraham Lincoln,
accompanied by the Cabinet, came to the bedside of
the failing giant, and in behalf of the nation the Presi-
dent voiced a people's gratitude for a life of service

[186]

XVI

A BOCKET IN THE WEST

IT WAS the tragedy of John Charles Fremont to
have been born in the nineteenth century with all of
its rules and restraints, its stolid emphasis on pre-
cision, efficiency and conformity. Had he lived several
hundred years earlier, when Incas and Aztecs waited
to be stripped of red gold and flaming jewels, he would
have ruffled it with Cortes and Pizarro, for there was
that in his soul that made for conquest and high ad-
venture.

Small wonder lovely Jessie Benton loved him from
the moment she first met him, and learned to adore
him when he came to her father's house with wise old
Jean Nicollet, bringing thrilling stories of that vast,
unknown stretch between the upper waters of the
Mississippi and Missouri. As slim and dark as his
wandering French father, tempestuous of eye and
hair, Fremont had sailed South American waters and
lived in the tents of the Cherokees, and his words
dripped color as he told of prairie fires and buffalo
hunts in the far Dakotas. The schoolgirl listened and
put her heart between his hands.

Imperious Thomas H. Benton, that great Missouri
senator, stormed furiously at news of the attachment,
and the picturesque young lieutenant of the Topo-
graphical Engineers was hurried off to the Des Moines
River on some pretext. But separation proved of no
avail. When Fremont returned in 1841 the seventeen-
th]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

year-old thrush and the hawk of twenty-seven slipped
away to a chapel and were made man and wife, begin-
ning a love story that was to last for fifty years with-
out a break in its dear devotion.

Whatever bitterness Senator Benton may have
felt was soon swept aside by the march of events.
England and the United States were at swords' points
over Oregon, and the far-visioned Missonrian stood at
the head of a Senate group resolved to hold the dis-
puted territory to the last inch of the American
claim. What better way than to fill the land with
settlers, willing to fight for the soil their ploughs had
turned? To this end an expedition "was planned that
would blaze the trail with scientific exactitude, and
when Nicollet fell ill it was to young Fremont that
they turned for leadership.

The first dash in 1842 was little more than a test
of his mettle. And his mettle rang true. To South
Pass, in the heart of the Wyoming mountains, he
made his way, plunged deep into the Wind Eiver
Eange, climbed the highest peak and gave it Ms name,
and then journeyed back to St. Louis in four months,
bearing maps and data that gave the first accurate
information of the country. Famous Kit Carson was
with him on the trip (the two had met on the Missouri
Biver boat) and the friendship formed was to last
through life.

In May of 1843 Fremont set forth on a second
journey, this time to go from South Pass to the
Columbia Eiver, thus completing his survey of the
Oregon Trail and the western half of the continent.
In Colorado he connected with Carson again, and
together they tramped the present site of Denver, rode
through the Garden of the Gods, drank deep at
Manitou Springs, followed the windings of the Cache

[188]

A ROCKET IN THE WEST

le Poudre, and once again, at South. Pass swung south
to see the miracle of the Great Salt Lake. Jim Bridger
had found this inland sea as far back as 1826, and
Ashley and Bonneville had looked upon it, but Fre-
mont was never one to let facts prevent a dramatic
gesture, and from a high point he gave faithful imita-
tion of Balboa discovering the Pacific.

The trip to the Columbia was full of hardship, but
without important incident, and with their task dis-
charged, the party naturally prepared for an easy
homeward journey. From Senator Benton, however,
Fremont had received certain instructions that went
far beyond any government order.

California, no less than Oregon, was of large in-
terest to the expansionists, for all knew Mexico owner-
ship to be a shadow, and England and France were
both suspected of designs upon the long sweep of
Pacific Coast. Fremont 7 s task was to spy out the
land, and with, scarce a halt at Fort Vancouver, he
swung off through Oregon and down into Nevada,
reaching the present site of Eeno in early December.

Before him stretched the great wall of the Sierras,
their summits lost to sight in the gray storm
clouds. Common sense commanded that camp be
pitched until the spring, for while five American
parties had crossed the range, these journeys had been
made in summer, and even Carson saw nothing but
death in a winter crossing. Fremont, always nervous,
impatient and headlong, ever willing to leap before
looking, crushed all protest and drove Ms ill-equipped
expedition forward into the ice and snow.

The weeks that followed were weeks of hell
nights of such bitter cold that sleep was impossible,
days when the wretched men froze as they dug roads
with shovels and mauls. Horses slipped to death.

[189]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Two of the voyageurs went stark mad from suffering.
Fremont "himself came near to death in an icy river
but was saved by Carson's swift plunge. Starvation
was only averted by the gift of pine nuts from stray
Indians, found in snow-buried huts, and when the
ragged band staggered into Butter's Fort on March
eighth they were as men come back from the grave.

For fifteen days they stayed with good-hearted,
chuckle-headed Sutter a rustic emperor with his
strong stockades and Indian army Fremont gather-
ing information as to the political situation. Then the
wanderers rode away, down the long, lovely sweep of
the San Joaquin vaEey, crossing the range through
Tehechapi Pass, and dropping swiftly into the barren
horrors of the Mojave Desert.

Northeasterly they marched, harassed by Indians,
tormented by thirst, passing through Nevada into
Utah, and resting for a while at Mountain Meadows,
that tragic oasis where Mormons and Indians were to
massacre a Missouri caravan in 1857. Then they
swung through bleak, unknown Utah and Colorado
ranges, and returned to St. Louis after fourteen
months of unbroken hardship.

Fremont's report, as vivid as Othello's accounts of
"moving accidents by field and flood, of hairbreadth
'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach/' thrilled the
nation, and people rejoiced in this new hero who met
every pictorial demand.

Events now moved swiftly and dramatically.
Mexico, accepting the annexation of Texas as an act
of war, flamed into passionate belligerence, and Ben-
ton and the western senators were more than ever
convinced that California hung like a ripe plum. The
prime necessity was to have a bold man on the ground,
and, under pretense of another surveying expedition,
Fremont was hurried to the Pacific Coast.

[190]

A ROCKET IN THE WEST

Now was life to the adventurer's taste. With a
red handkerchief about his head, Delaware Indians
for a bodyguard, and Kit Carson and some sixty
frontiersmen, armed to the teeth, as his army, the
Pathfinder raced across the desert and came to Fort
Sutter once again in December, 1845, his black eyes
blazing like torches at thought of gambling for an
empire.

At the time, California's white population of ten
thousand was confined to a fifty-mile strip along the
coast. Monterey and Los Angeles, each with less than
one thousand five hundred people, were the principal
towns, and there were no courts, no mails, no agricul-
ture and no government. Mexican rule was not even
a shadow, and two local chiefs, Pio Pico and Jose
Castro, quarreled fiercely over control of the custom
receipts.

Both, however, accepted foreign intervention as an
inescapable fact, Pico declaring openly in favor of a
British protectorate, while Castro leaned to the
French.

Swaggering down the San Joaquin Valley, Fre-
mont's " scientific expedition " gave victorious battle
to " upward of a hundred" Indians, whereupon Castro
took quick alarm and ordered him out of the country.
The Pathfinder's answer was to fortify G-avilan peak,
near Monterey, fling the American flag to the
breeze, and issue a resounding proclamation to the
effect that he would resist expulsion to the death.
Castro's artillery, however, chilled this martial
spirit, and under cover of darkness the Americans
rode north, poking around Mount Shasta rather
aimlessly, and pitching camp at Klamath Meadows
along in early May.

A night attack by Indians cost the lives of three

[191]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

men, and not even Kit Carson's savage reprisals
daunted the savages, for Fremont's return to the?
Sacramento was a running fight. By now he had
learned of the failure of Folk's peace negotiations, and
the news that Pico and Castro meant to expel all
American settlers added to his conviction that the
time had come to strike. British war vessels were in
California waters, and any day might come the
announcement of a British protectorate.

On June fourteenth, therefore, thirty-three Ameri-
cans rode into the plaza of Sonoma and informed
Q-eneral Vallejo and his drowsy garrison that they
were prisoners. A young lady's petticoat, purchased
for one dollar, was turned over to an American of
artistic bent, who went to work at once with lamp-
black and pokeberry juice, producing a flag on which
a somewhat surprised grizzly bear faced a large and
very lopsided star.

Meanwhile Commodore Sloat, in charge of the
American squadron, had been cruising off Mazatlan,
pathetically waiting for exact news. Word of Palo
Alto came to him on June fifth, and he sailed to
Monterey, still undecided, for he was under instruc-
tions to avoid anything " which could be construed as
an act of aggression. " LarMn, consul at Monterey,
advised against the strong hand, convinced that the
Mexicans could be induced to make an amicable trans-
fer of their allegiance. But even as negotiations were
under way, down from the north came tidings of
Sonoma ? s capture and the new Bear Flag.

The fat was in the fire, for Castro and Pico put
differences aside, joined forces and emitted an im-
mense quantity of bellicose oratory. Sloat, receiving
the report that Admiral Sir George Seymour and the
British squadron were on the way, and convinced that

[192]

Fremont daring and iriesponsible

A ROCKET IN TEE WEST

Fremont must have liad the government's authoriza-
tion for his actions, now threw hesitancy to one side,
and took possession of California in the name of the
United States.

Fremont arrived soon after, raising a great dust,
for his Indians and frontiersmen had been reinforced
by a goodly number of settlers, all in love with a leader
as daring and irresponsible as themselves.

Poor Sloat came close to an apoplectic seizure when
he found that the Pathfinder was without any sort of
governmental authority for his warlike acts, but even
as he wrangled and reproached, Commodore Stock-
ton, cocksure and arrogant, succeeded him.

A peaceful conquest disgusted Stockton no less
than Fremont, and without more ado the two birds
of a feather flew away in search of the Mexicans,
uttering wild cries. Pico and Castro, alarmed by
these evidences of a violent intention, disappeared as
if by magic. And to add to their chagrin, Larkin and
a friend took possession of Los Angeles before the
warrior pair could come up with their bands, troops,
and artillery.

With much pomp and circumstance, Stockton ap-
pointed Fremont military governor of the new terri-
tory, and Kit Carson was hurried off to Washington
with the news of conquest. This done, the war lords
rode north, leaving Lieutenant Grillespie on guard with
fif ty men.

All might have gone well at that, however, had
Stockton's laws been less Draconian or if Gillespie
had used common sense in enforcing them. Hounded
by rules and regulations wherever they turned, the
Mexicans took a lesson from the humble worm, and,
turning with considerable spirit, recaptured Los
Angeles. Captain Mervine, sent down by Stockton to

[193]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

quell the revolt, arrived without artillery and the lone
cannon of the Mexicans beat him back with some loss.
Hearing of this reverse, the gallant Commodore sailed
straight on to San Diego, and Fremont, turning back
at Monterey, rushed north in search of men and horses.

Meanwhile Kit Carson, riding east in happy ignor-
ance, met General Stephen Kearny, who, having con-
quered New Mexico without a shot, was now marching
to take over California. Upon learning that this chore
had already been done, and that the land was at peace,
Kearny sent back two hundred of his men, and rode
on with scarce more than an escort.

As they toiled through the Mojave Desert, word
reached them of the revolt, and Kearny, bitterly re-
gretting his absent dragoons, rushed a messenger to
Stockton begging aid. About forty men reached him
at a point forty miles from San Diego on December
fifth, and the gray dawn of the next morning saw
quite a respectable battle. The Americans had
eighteen killed and thirteen wounded, and only fresh
reinforcements enabled the battered survivors to
reach San Diego. Now over-cautious, Stockton wanted
to wait for news of Fremont, but the driving Kearny
urged a march on Los Angeles, and as the Calif ornians
were tired of fighting, the novelty having worn off, the
town was won on January tenth without great diffi-
culty.

Speculation as to Fremont's whereabouts were
soon set at rest. After spending two pleasant
months on the Sacramento, finally collecting some four
hundred mounted men, the Pathfinder rode down San
Joaquin Valley, now his favorite bridle path, and by
stopping a week at Santa Barbara, managed to reach
the vicinity of Los Angeles on the very day that
Kearny and Stockton took possession. This was

[194]

A ROCKET IN THE WEST

gloomy news for one who had been planning siege and
assault, but Fremont was never one to remain non-
plussed. On January thirteenth he mounted his
swiftest charger and dashed to Cahuenga where the
remnants of California's "army" sat smoking
cigarettes and wondering whether their sentence
would be hard labor or the more merciful one of death.
Leaping from his steed, the Pathfinder took upon him-
self the business of making a treaty, and soon the
amazed Californians found themselves gravely con-
senting to terms that gave them life, liberty, property,
freedom of movement and every imaginable privilege.

Realizing the unwisdom of a quarrel, Stockton and
Kearny recognized the treaty. Nevertheless, unpleas-
ant consequences flowed from the incident. Hereto-
fore Kearny had not asserted the authority vested in
him by the Secretary of War, but now, convinced of
Fremont 's utter irresponsibility and Stockton's unfit-
ness, he stepped forward as commander-in-chief of all
the American forces in California. The Commodore
dissented furiously, and Fremont, choosing to defy his
own superior, gaily continued to exercise his functions
as governor by virtue of Stockton's appointment.

Great happiness was his for a while. The Mexican
"army" came over to him in a body, as admiring and
devoted as his own Delaware Indians, and there were
many gratifying reports of insurrections to justify
dramatic journeys. Once he rode the miles from Los
Angeles to Monterey in four days, driving remounts
before him, and lassoing a fresh steed every twenty
miles.

On April first, however, word came from Washing-
ton that confirmed General Kearny 's authority in
'every particular, and out of Fremont's defiance came
Ms arrest and trial. A court-martial, held in January,

[195]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

1848, found Tirm guilty of mutiny, disobedience, and
conduct to the prejudice of good order and military
discipline, and fixed the penalty as dismissal from the
army. President Polk, duly mindful of Senator
Benton's power, remitted the sentence, but Fremont,
furious at the finding, refused to accept the pardon,
and quit the service in a rage.

As a matter of fact, he had doubtless tired of the
army anyway, for routine and discipline were ever
distasteful to Mm, and by resigning he served his own
inclination even while donning a martyr's crown.
Wandering was the thing he loved, and the fall of 1848
saw Mm setting forth for the West again, employing
his own and Senator Bent on 's money to find a prac-
ticable route for a transcontinental railroad from St.
Louis to the coast.

For all his romantic posturing, his almost juvenile
love of the dramatic, no braver man than Fremont
ever lived. Danger drew him, hardship and suffering
were without power to appall, and it was with a sense
of escape that he turned his back on civilization, and
plunged into the bleak fastnesses of the Rockies.

Starting out from Pueblo in late November, Fre-
mont crossed the Wet Mountains, found a pass
through the saw-toothed peaks of the Sangre de
Christo, and, after traversing the San Luis Valley,
came to the foot of the mighty San Juan range in
December. The boldest of his company shrank from
the terrible climb, but Fremont was ever one who felt
delay like a wound, and he shamed them forward by
his own high courage.

One poor wretch froze in his tracks, but his
desperate companions dared not stop to bury him,
staggering forward like men in the grip of a night-
mare. Leaving the spent, half -frozen wrecks to wait

[196]

A ROCKET IN THE WEST

on the banks of the Eio Grande, steel-framed Fremont
and four of the strongest men set out to find a settle-
ment, and after traveling another one hundred and
sixty miles, came to Taos where Kit Carson rnshed
the work of gathering supplies. The relief expedition,
however, was of no avail to ten men, dead of cold and
starvation.

His pathfinding brought to a bitter end, Fremont
raced on to California by the quickest route, learning
of the gold discovery on the way. A Mexican grant
that he had bought in 1847 proved rich in the precious
mineral, but money was never of large concern to him,
and politics claimed most of his interests. California
made him one of her first senators, but he drew the
short term, unluckily, and was defeated for re-election
in 1851 by reason of his violent anti-slavery views. It
was at this time that the government ordered three
lines of survey "for overland travel and the prospec-
tive railroad route," but even as Fremont counted
upon the honor of leading one of the expeditions,
Secretary of War Jefferson Davis humiliated him by
a brusk refusal.

Justly enraged, the Pathfinder drew upon his own
funds for an independent expedition, and the late
summer of 1853 saw him setting off from the banks of
the Missouri, attended by the usual Delaware chiefs
and picturesque plainsmen that always rallied to his
call. Through Colorado and to G-reen River in Utah
he followed the trail of Captain Grandson, but from
then on he was in new country, faced by the Wasatch
range, as vast and terrible as the Sierras or the San
Juan.

Never was Fremont closer to death than in the
weeks that followed. The mules died of the frightful
cold, and the men walked barefoot. Food failed and

[197]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

they boiled cactus spines. Out of the madness of suf-
fering came muttered talk of cannibalism, and the
Pathfinder drew his pistol with threat to kill. A pass
was found at last. A solitary settlement saved their
lives when hope had been surrendered, and when they
reached California in May, 1854, it was to learn that
the world had given them up for dead.

A year in "Washington, presenting plans and re-
ports, and then we find Fremont in the thick of the
slavery fight, leading with such fire and passion that
the new Bepublican party named him as its standard
bearer in 1856. Beaten by Buchanan the last victory
of the slave interests Fremont returned to California
where the title to his grant was being attacked. Win-
ning his fight, and possessed of a great property that
seemed bound to make him many times a millionaire,
his lack of business brains worked steadily to disaster,
and 1860 saw everything swept away.

Fremont's star, so long a flame in the heavens, was
now setting. Appointed a major-general at the out-
break of the Civil War, and given command of the
Western Department, one of his first acts was to
issue an emancipation proclamation. Lincoln annulled
it quickly and soon thereafter the Pathfinder found
himself removed to a purely military cQm.Tn.and in the
East. Surrounded by a foreign legion, made up of
Hungarians for the most part, he cut a brave, pic-
turesque figure as always. But the fortunes of war
went against him, and when General Pope was put
over him he asked to be relieved from further duty.

There was a moment in 1864 when he thought to
run against Lincoln as the candidate of the radical
Eepublicans, but his following was too pitifully small.
Then there came the presidency of the Memphis, El
Paso and Pacific Railway, with its promise of renewed

[1981

A ROCKET IN THE WEST

glory, but this wildcat venture exploded, and he was
stripped of everything, even to his Hudson River
home. Returning to California, there too he found
himself homeless, for the government had seized his
twelve-acre tract for a fort, nor was he ever granted
compensation.

In 1878 the powers flung him the governorship of
Arizona as a sort of pension, but after four years he
was forced back into a world that had grown away
from him a world in which all the paths had been
found, and poverty added to the sad conviction that
he had lived too long.

In 1890, now seventy-seven years old, he crossed
the continent, riding over the steel rails of which he
had dreamed during many weary marches, and in
Washington, where he was but a name, begged restora-
tion to his rank of major-general in order that his old
age might not be penniless.

Not cold nor hunger nor hardship had ever had
power to break that proud spirit, but the humiliation
of this begging errand struck him to the heart, and he
was without strength to throw off a sudden illness, the
brave, gallant, questing soul sinking quietly to the rest
it had never known in life. %

There was much talk of monuments and mauso-
leums, but after five humiliating months of dwindling
enthusiasm Jessie Benton raised eyes from which the
radiance had gone forever. "Lay him in the open/ 3
she said, "for the snows to fall upon. It was what he
knew in life."

[199]

xvn

ISTCBEDIBLE KIT CAESOE*

DOWN- out of the snow-capped Rockies rode the
trappers shaggy men, eagle-eyed and with the swift,
soft steps of panthers, driving pack horses loaded with
the winter's catch of furs gathering joyously for
their annual summer rendezvous with the traders.

From the Cache le Poudre, the Big Horn, the
Snake, the Yellowstone and the upper waters of the
Missouri, they poured into a fair meadow that blos-
somed on the banks of the Green, waking the echoes
with shots and yells. Many had not heard human
voices for months ; there were old friends to meet and
dead friends to mourn; around the campfires at night
would be soul-filling gossip of mountain and plain, and
races, wrestling and shooting matches to give interest
to the days.

Americans, English, French, Canadians and many
queer mixed breeds pitched their buffalo-skin shelters
by the shining water, skylarking like children before
drifting back into the solitudes for another year of
hardship and peril. A strange, wild race, hating the
civilization they had fled from, yet bringing civiliza-
tion nearer with every path they found, every trail
they blazed; conquering the great swe&p of Golden
"West, yet barred from any share in the reward by
their own invincible nomadism, and doomed to pass
along with the buffalo and the beaver.

Gaiety and friendship marked the annual rendez-
vous for the most part, but now and then a bully

[200]

INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON

swaggered in, eager to win a reputation for himself "by
blow and brawl. Such a one was Shunan,, a gigantic
cross-breed from the Far North, evil enough when
sober and a devil in his cnps.

For a while his boasts were endured, and then an
American stepped forward a man so small that he
did not reach to Shunan's shoulder, so slender that
his body was scarce broader than Shunan's massive
leg. His long brown hair was as fine as a woman's,
the gray eyes soft and mild, and soft and mild was his
voice as he told the bully to stop his noise and insults.

"An* what might your name be, little rooster?"
sneered Shunan.

"Kit Carson," came the answer in the same low-
pitched, pleasant tone.

"You Kit Carson!" Shunan screamed with laugh-
ter. "Why, all I need for your case is a willow
switch,"

The duel arranged was after the fashion most
popular among the deadly men of the frontier a
charge on horseback at one hundred yards, each to
carry the weapon that best suited his fancy. Shunan
chose the rifle and Carson picked his pistol.

Down the course the riders thundered. Like a flash.
Shunan's rifle leaped to his shoulder, but even as his
finger pressed the trigger Carson fired without seem-
ing to aim. His ball shattered the right forearm, just
as it could have pierced the heart had he wished, and
from the ground the sobered braggart thanked his
generous foe for the gift of a life.

There were many incredible men who roamed that
savage stretch between the Missouri and the Sierras
in the days when the West was a wilderness Jim
Bridger, as ruthless and cunning as any painted
Indian: Peg Leg Smith who beat off a war party

[201]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

single-handed, and then amputated his bullet-mangled
foot with a hunting knife ; Joe Walker, able to whip a
grizzly bear with his naked hands. But of all that
amazing company Kit Carson will ever remain the
most incredible.

Almost womanish in appearance, even primitive
Bridger was not his equal when it came to enduring
cold, hunger and fatigue; so gentle in manner that
strangers thought him cowardly, yet deadly as a king
cobra when occasion demanded; poor always as far
as money went, yet turning away in disgust from the
greeds of the California gold rush; uneducated, un-
lettered, knowing only the waste places and their
barbarisms, yet ever living cleanly and holding fast to
certain instinctive refinements.

It was in the fall of 1826, when he was but eighteen,
that Kit Carson left his Missouri home to go with
some vagrant traders on the journey to far Santa Fe.
All thought him too puny for the terrible march. But
when thirst tormented, he alone made no whimper.
When others weakened, he gave them courage. And
on the day a man shattered his hand while fooling with
a rifle, it was the girl-faced lad that had the iron nerve
to operate without other instruments than a hunting
knife, a small saw and a red-hot iron for cauterization.

It was as if the boy had at last found the thing that
he had been waiting for all his life. Leaving his party
at Santa Fe, Kit went north by himself, driving a pack
mule before him, with only his rifle to furnish protec-
tion and food, but sublimely happy.

Somewhere and somehow he fell in with a lone
Spaniard and this solitary trapper took the wanderer
into his cabin for the winter, teaching him all that he
knew of wood and stream, drawing maps at night on
the dirt floor, and drilling him in Spanish, the lad

[202]

INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON

grasping tlie language with the same facility that was
to give him French and a half-dozen Indian tongues
at a later time.

Starting back home in the spring, Kit met a party
of traders on the way, and leaped at the chance to act
as guide and interpreter. Once again in Santa Fe, he
joined another band and traveled clear to El Paso,
which was then in the State of Chihuahua, crossing
the dreaded Jornada del Muerto. But he did not like
Mexico or the Mexicans, and the winter season found
him back in the Taos country, trapping along its
swift streams. Always, however, the unknown drew
him as a magnet, and when the winds blew warm he
cast his lot with some rovers who had heard great tales
of California rivers black to the very brim with
beaver.

It was in the days when the old Spanish missions
still flourished, and at San Gabriel and San Fernando
the adventurers saw hills and plains covered with
horses, cattle, and sheep ; glowing gardens, great vine-
yards and white-clad monks moving like kings through
fields where a thousand Indians worked for the greater
glory of the Lord. - A golden land, an Eden, but a few
weeks exhausted its charm for the driving Americans,
and they turned to the north, following the San
Joaquin Valley to the upper reaches of the Sacramento.

On every hill burned the signal-fires of the Indians,
and when it was seen that the savages meant war
Carson urged the wisdom of a bold stroke that would
instill a wholesome fear. Picking a handful of the
best rifle men, he fell on an Indian village in the
night, wiping it out. Then, following with the tenacity
of a hound, he gave successful battle to the broken
remnants of the tribe in a mountain gorge.

Trapping in peace, the Americans went from

[203]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

stream to stream, and when they returned to Santa
Fe in the spring of 1830, the sale of furs gave them
twenty-four thousand dollars to divide.

Now it was the North that called Kit Carson, and
winter found him in the "Wyoming country, pierced by
the bitter mountain winds, buffeted by terrific bliz-
zards, but happy to be in a new land. Again the
Indians hovered near both night and day, hopeful of
picking off a straggler or stealing a bunch of horses,
and again young Carson was selected to lead one of
those fierce reprisals in which the trappers delighted.

For forty miles he followed the trail of the thieves,
and coming to their camp in the dead of night, crept
like a snake to where the stolen ponies were tethered,
and brought them off without waking a redskin.

Kit's companions were eager to be away, for the
Indians out-numbered them ten to one, but Carson
insisted that this very fact made boldness imperative.

"They will follow us in the morning, 7 ' he said,
"and have us at their mercy. We must weaken them
while surprise gives us the advantage. "

Putting his men behind rocks and trees, he gave
his battle yell, and as the startled savages leaped from
sleep, twelve rifles cracked. All through the night and
well beyond the dawn the struggle waged, but finally
the Crows retreated.

Sometimes with a party, oftentimes with only two
or three chosen companions, Carson roamed the north,
always in love with virgin trails, photographing
passes and streams with the eye of a born geographer.

It was now that he came to know Jim Bridger,
wildest of all that wild crew, for he had been among
the first to fight the Indians for mastery of the land,
and the mountain life had stripped him down to stark
elemental instincts. The two companioned it on many

[204]

INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON

a lonely hunting trip, fought back to back against the
Indians, and came to friendship such as civilization
never knows.

Of all the savages that held the "West against the
advance of the white men, the Blackf eet were the most
dreaded, for their courage was backed by tenacity and
cunning. Lords of the Montana country, they stood
as a challenge to the trappers. Tiring of the Wyoming
region, Carson now decided to match himself against
the fierce, implacable rulers of the north.

From the first day the march was a battle, and as
they fought the trappers from dawn to dark the
Blackfeet amply justified their reputation for ferocity
and daring. The end came in a furious encounter
where the .Americans were compelled to confess de-
feat.

Carson, leaving his tree to save a comrade, re-
ceived a bullet in the shoulder that smashed bone and
sinew, and, with their leader wounded, the trappers
fell back in sullen retreat.

The next winter saw Carson following the path of
Lewis and Clark from the Three Forks of the Mis-
souri, and the crossing of the Bitter Root Range was
attended by much the same privations that befell the
earlier expedition. The cold froze their marrow, food
gave out, and only hot blood drawn from the veins of
their mules sustained life. Yet before Carson was
well recovered from this terrible experience, he was
back in the Yellowstone country at the head of one
hundred men, determined to settle the question of
mastery with the Blackfeet.

Not Waterloo itself was more bitterly contested
than the all-day battle that gave victory to the whites.
Although outnumbered ten to one, Carson bewildered
the Indians by Ms strategy, forcing them to charge

[205]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

over exposed ground where the unerring rifles of the
trappers took toll. From a near-by hill the Blackfeet
women cried encouragement, but night saw the beaten,
shattered tribe in flight.

As the victors came to the rendezvous that sum-
mer, sis hundred throats acclaimed them, and Kit
Carson's fame rang from the Rockies to the Sierras.

Father De Smet, greatest of all Indian mission-
aries, was among those that gathered on the banks of
the Green that year, and it is interesting to speculate
upon the meeting of the heroic priest and the no less
heroic Carson, the one consecrated to the service of
the red man, the other dedicated to his destruction.

Sir William Stuart, an English nobleman, had also
drifted to the rendezvous and the proof of Carson's
quality is that both missionary and titled Briton were
proud to call him friend.

A season in the Navajo country, far to the south ;
a spring jaunt with Jim Bridger through the un-
explored stretch between the Laramie and the
Sweetwater; another wild rendezvous where Carson
outshot and outraced them all, and then a fresh foray
into the land of the Blackfeet. Undi scour aged, in-
domitable, the Indians gathered for battle, but as
before were compelled to confess defeat after the
bravest of their chiefs had fallen.

A return engagement the following winter was
less fortunate for Carson and his comrades. By now
the Bla^feet had learned the futility of pitched
battles, and waged war more cunningly, ambushing
the trappers in mountain gorges, harassing them on
the march, and wearing them out by never letting them
rest. Beaten by this strategy, the whites were forced
to cross the Bitter Boot Range and find refuge among
the friendly Flatheads.

[206]

INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON

It was Carson's wish to follow tlie Columbia to the
sea, as Lewis and Clark had done, but it was Hudson
Bay country, and reluctantly enough he fell back to
the rendezvous on the Green.

To the trappers' bitter disappointment, they found
that the bottom had dropped out of the price of furs.
Fashion, so contemptuously disregarded by these wild
men, now took revenge, for silk hats had come to be
the rage in Europe, and beaver head-pieces were out
of style.

Carson, always keen-visioned, saw it as the end of
profits in trapping, and following the swift rush of the
Arkansas as it tore through the mountains, came to
Fort Bent in Colorado, and asked for the position of
hunter. Having traveled almost every foot of the
country between the Missouri and the Pacific, between
the Snake Eiver and the Gila, he was now willing to
rest for a while in one spot.

Arapahoes, Cheyennes, Kiowas and Comanches,
respecting him as a gallant foe, made Carson their
friend and counselor, and not only did he promote
better relations with the whites, but settled many
tribal disputes that would have led to bloody wars.

An Indian girl caught his eye while on one of these
peace-making trips, about the first woman that had
ever entered his life, and he married her with bell and
candle, a rare occurrence for that day, mourning her
sincerely when she , died soon after the birth of a
daughter.

Suddenly deciding that a frontier fort was no place
for a little girl, Carson set out with a fur caravan for
St. Louis in the early spring of 1842, his first touch
with civilization in sixteen years. Even so, ten days
was all that he could stand of it, and after putting the
child in a school, he took steamer for the voyage up

[207]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

the Missouri. John Charles Fremont was on board,
proceeding on the first of those reckless expeditions
that were to earn him the title of Pathfinder. Never
was he IncMer than in his meeting with Kit Carson.

It was not only that the frontiersman was the
greatest Indian fighter of his day a Hannibal of the
plains and that he had hunted and trapped over
every foot of the country that Fremont was setting out
to chart and map. There was an indomitable quality
in Carson that took no account of danger and hard-
ship, joined with a cool caution that avoided every
unnecessary peril. But for Kit Carson it is to be
doubted if the impatient, foolhardy Fremont would
have won through on any of his expeditions, for when
his presence was lacking on the fourth journey, the
Pathfinder led his men to death and failure.

Fremont's first dash to South Pass was little more
than a saunter for Carson, and he must have chuckled
to himself as the dramatic leader "discovered" peaks
and passes that were as familiar to him as his own
door-step in Taos. Yet there is ample evidence that
he came to have a great affection for the ardent John
Charles, so gallant and picturesque, guiding him and
humoring him as one would a beloved child, and
effacing himself at every point that glory might not
be divided.

The second Fremont expedition that crazy dash
down from the Oregon country into Nevada, and then
the starved, frozen stumble across the Sierras in the
dead of winter was saved from disaster by Carson
alone, and when the Pathfinder marched through
Colorado again in 1845, on his way to gamble for an
empire, it was to Kit Carson that he sent his swiftest
messengers, demanding the fulfillment of Ms pledge
to come at any call.

[208]

INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON

Leaving Ms home in Taos, where there was now a
new wife and baby children, the devoted Kit answered
the summons, and throughout the wild, harum-scarum
conquest of California, rode at Fremont's side, cap-
tain of the "army" in every Indian fight, and suave,
adroit interpreter in every conference with the
Californians.

When the land was presumed to be at peace, his
one request was that he might carry the despatches
east, eager for sight of his family, but before he could
reach Taos, he met General Kearny and turned again
to act as a guide through the burning, Indian-scourged
sands of the Mohave.

He saved Kearny just as he had saved Fremont so
many times, for when they were surrounded by Mexi-
cans, it was Carson who crawled on his belly through
cactus and prickly pear, wriggling like a snake from
shadow to shadow, winning past campfire and sentries,
and then toiling forty miles on bare, bleeding feet to
bring aid from San Diego. In March, 1847, he had
his reward, for Kearny sent him to Washington with
despatches, giving him the chance for a short visit
with his family.

President and Congress joined in lionizing the
famous frontiersman whose daring had thrilled the
East for so many years, and there were many com-
pliments upon his simple dignity. It was as a lieu-
tenant in the Rifle Corps that he rode back across the
continent to Monterey, and there was a winter of mili-
tary duty well discharged, for Ms was the task to
guard passes and keep the Indians in hand.

In the spring he started off again on the long jour-
ney to Washington with despatches, but on reaching
Santa Fe, learned that the politicians of the Senate
had refused to confirm his appointment.

[209]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

" Don't go on/' urged Ms friends. "They've
kicked you out, Kit. Let 'em get somebody else to do
their dangerous work."

Carson's answer might well have served as his
epitaph. "No," he said, "this is a service for my
country, and it doesn't matter whether I do it as an
officer in the army or a plainsman. The big thing is
to do it."

The Comanches were on the war-path at the time,
racing the short-grass country with a message of
death for every white, and Kit was forced to swing
wide of the established trails, riding further and
further into the arid stretches of the north. When he
reached Fort Leavenworth, edging down from
Nebraska, his iron frame was wasted to a shadow.

Back in the lovely Eayado Valley near Taos, where
he had bought a ranch, he thought to know peace and
rest, but when the Apaches went blood-mad, killing
and torturing men, women and children, it was to Kit
Carson that the people turned. More cunning than
the Indians and equally tireless, he scourged them
across the desert sands, harried them through the
mountain fastnesses, and drove them to hide in the
sun-baked rocks along with the rattlesnakes.

In 1853 he pushed six thousand sheep across the
plains to California, where the gold hunters feted him
as a hero and patron saint, but when old companions
offered to share their claims, telling of wealth to be
had for the taking, he shook his head and rode back to
his valley, away from the greeds of men.

Now and then he went far into the North for a
hunting expedition with old friends, but no more were
there the gay wild gatherings on the banks of the
Green, and each year brought news of the death and
disappearance of those he had known and loved.

[210]

INCREDIBLE KIT CARSON

Having done more than any other man to bring
the great stretch of the "West into the Union, it was
indeed fitting that Carson's life should have ended in
defense of that Union* At the outbreak of the Civil
War he received appointment as a colonel of volun-
teers, and in the uniform of his country rode the passes
and trails that he had once traveled in moccasins and
beaded buckskin. Four years of hard service took
heavy toll of a constitution already strained by a life
that had never known ease, and the end of the war
found him with an incurable disease of the heart.

Three years he lived, long enough to let him see
the completion of the railroad that linked the Atlantic
and the Pacific, and as he watched steel rails run where
once he had hunted the buffalo and fought the grizzly
bear, he murmured to himself, " There is no more
West," and rode back home to die.

[211]

XVIH

THE PEOMISED LAISD

out of Illinois like so many wild beasts of
the forest, the Mormons left their fair city of Nauvoo
with its shaded streets and shining temple, and fled
before the hate of their fellowmen.

Crossing the Mississippi, straight into the setting
sun they drove their ox teams, indomitably persuaded
that somewhere beyond the arid, burning stretch of
desert they would find a Promised Land rich in peace
and rest against the rage of the wicked. A hegira as
vast and pathetic as that of the Israelitic tribes when
Moses led them out of Egypt, and no less marked by
simplicity of faith and high courage.

Nineteen years had passed since that day in 1830
when young Joseph Smith startled the citizens of
Palmyra, New York, with his story of the Hill of
Cumorah and the great Gold Plates, and few of these
years had been without suffering and persecution.

Having known "Joe" throughout his ragged,
worthless boyhood, hard-headed men refused to believe
that God had picked him 'out as His prophet. They
jeered at his specific accounts of the visits of the angel
Moroni and scoffed at the magical eye-glasses, called
Urim and Thummim after the mysterious Old Testa-
ment high priest symbols and providentially found for
the translation of the plates; and when the Book of
Mormon appeared in print, establishing a brand-new
religion, people gave vent to fierce anger against the
"blasphemers."

[212]

TEE PROMISED LAND

The wholesale removal of the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter Day Saints to Kirtland, Ohio,
promised well for a while, and as missionaries traveled
the Eastern States and Europe, sending back a steady
stream of converts, the huge, dynamic Prophet tossed
his yellow mane, and dreamed great dreams of the
kingdom, the power and the glory.

In bursts of Old Testament oratory he declared
that the councils of the ungodly would be confounded,
and all unbelievers cast into the lion's mouth, aye,
even upon the horns of the unicorn. Short-lived pros-
perity, for dreams have ever been poor building
material when unaccompanied by practicality, and of
a sudden Joseph Smith's towering structure fell with
a crash.

By night there was a flight to Missouri, but al-
though plainly indicated as the New Zion by divine
revelation, it proved anything but a refuge. The
Missourians did not like the Mormons, nor was it any
passive distaste, for mobs fell into the habit of tarring
and feathering, and at the last crops were destroyed,
homes burned, and it was only by the narrowest
margin that the Prophet and his Apostles escaped
death before a militia firing squad.

Back across the Mississippi fled the unhappy
Saints, founding Nauvoo the Beautiful on the river
bank fifty miles or so from Quincy.

Once again there was the promise of happiness, for
Mormon missionaries labored hugely in England,
Holland, and the Scandinavian countries, sending bad:
thousands of converts, and by 1844 Nauvoo had a
population of about twelve thousand, scorning Chicago
with its pitiful four thousand.

Tithes filled the coffers of the church, industry and
mergy wrung rich returns from tlie fertile soil, and

[213]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

such was the increase in wealth and power that even
Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas begged the
Prophet's favor.

Out of it all came Joseph Smith's decision to run
for president. A tragic blunder, for the people of
Illinois had been viewing Mormonism's growth with
angry alarm, and public opinion flamed into fury when
the Prophet wrecked opposition newspapers, sup-
pressed free speech and declared martial law, ruling
despotically by means of the Nauvoo Legion, a military
body of his own organization.

The end came when a mob burst into the Carthage
jail, where Smith lay awaiting trial for riot and
treason, shooting down the Prophet and his brother,
Hyrum, and pumping bullets into the bodies long after
life had left.

For a while the bereaved Saints struggled manfully
against the rising tide of hate, but confessing defeat
at last, they gave up the fight in the spring of 1846,
and for the next few months streamed across the
Mississippi into the unknown. Scourged, hunted and
homeless, it was still the case that a sublime confidence
shone in every face, for at their head rode a heavy-set
man of forty-five, red of hair and gray of eye, a jut
of short chin whiskers accentuating the thrust of an
under jaw that had the look of granite,

Brigham Young had been a poor hardworking
painter and glazier at the time of his conversion to
Mormonism, remarkable only for thrift, industry and
common sense. Perhaps it was this very practicality,
the intense realism of the man, that made him accept
the new faith that took every one of God's words in
absolute literalness, scorning attempt to treat them
figuratively.

It is equally characteristic of his solid, steadfast

[214]

THE PROMISED LAND

nature, that, once having made his choice of a religion,
he cleared his heart and mind of doubts and fears. It
was nothing to him that he was never vouchsafed sight
of the Golden Plates, nor the Urim and Thummin, and
he bowed his massive head in matter-of-fact accept-
ance of each and every revelation that Joseph Smith
reported*

From the very first the new convert proved a tower
of strength, furnishing the hard sense, shrewd judg-
ment and administrative ability that the Prophet
lacked. It was Brigham Young who first saw the
necessity of evangelization, and it was largely through
his powerful, compelling personality that English,
Scotch, Dutch and Scandinavians were induced to
turn their possessions into money and sail for America
to live under the rule of the Prophet, Seer and
Eevelator. Ranking member of the Apostles at the
time of Joseph Smith's death, Brigham Young suc-
ceeded to leadership, and as he led his homeless,
desperate people into the "West, it was as though the
stark challenge of the unknown developed deep-lying,
long-hidden instincts of mastery.

A tremendous creature, a great man, judged by
the standards of any time or race. Where Lewis and
Clark and Fremont had only blazed trails, the "Lion
of the Lord/* as his devout followers called him, built
cities and reared states, facing nature in her most
savage aspects and beating her to his will. A true
empire builder he was, yet barred from true place and
proper consideration by reason of living too late.

Had he fought the desert in the day when the
Twelve Tribes roamed the wilderness each bearded,
fire-eyed leader followed by a procession of wives and
concubines all would have been well, but the nine-
teenth century shrank away in bitter prejudice from

[215]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

Brigham Young >s twenty-five helpmates, and Ms
polygamy has ever been a cloud between him and his
rightful place in the sun.

As the Mormons set forth into the land of sand and
sage-brush, not Moses himself was more the autocrat
than this middle-aged painter and glazier who faced
the frontier with as much assurance as though his
whole life had not been spent in towns.

He picked the camps and pitched them. Under
his watchful eye the wagons were lowered from bluff
to river bed. If there was a sick horse to be treated
or a watch to be swapped, it was Brigham Young who
prescribed the remedy and approved the trade. At
his stern command men and women calmed their petty
disagreements and surrendered their selfishnesses.
"When storms beat down their rude shelters, baring the
wretched exiles to the wrath of the skies, he blew upon
the dying fires of courage until they blazed again.

Beaching the present site of Council Bluffs in mid-
summer, for the oxen could only make six miles a
day, Brigham Young decided upon a permanent en-
campment and entered into amicable arrangement
with the Indians for the use of the land.

Seeds were planted, and under his direction, cabins
were built, home manufactures started, and trades
taught, so that by the time the cold wind blew it was
a self-contained community that faced the winter in
comfort and confidence.

These things done, the indomitable leader picked
some one hundred and fifty men from the company,
and set out again in the April of 1847, bidding his
people wait until he should have found Zion.

Off across the parched land they rode, and as
methodically as though it were a mere painting job,
Brigham Young parleyed with hostile Indians, located

[216]

THE PROMISED LAND

water holes, fought prairie fires, sent men to hunt the
buffalo and antelope, kicked rattlesnakes out of the
way as part of the day's work, laid his hands on the
sick and "rebuked" the disease, and never raised his
voice except when irritated by "joking, nonsense,
profane language, trifling conversation and loud
laughter/' In his possession was one of John Charles
Fremont's maps, and this he followed faithfully until
the Wind Eiver loomed high above him, and there
came the necessity of a choice between the California
and Oregon trails.

At the entrance to South Pass, the party met,
among others, those two famous frontiersmen, Jim
Bridger and Peg Leg Smith, who told in detail of the
country that lay ahead, drawing maps in the sand of
trails and fords, and sitting far into the night to
satisfy Brigham Young's eager curiosity about the
Great Salt Lake. Both took alarm at this eager en-
thusiasm, and enlarged upon the terrors of the desert,
urging a settlement somewhere in the lovely sweep of
Pacific Coast country, but the far-visioned leader had
already made up his mind.

Large-scale colonization in California or Oregon
would be well enough for a time, but when people
began to pour in from the East, he foresaw a renewal
of the hate and persecution that had already driven
the Mormons from Ohio, Missouri and Illinois.

Far better suited to his needs were the barren
solitudes of the harsh, forbidding Utah country, for
they promised isolation until such time as strength
could be gathered. Nor was it only the case that rag-
ing unbelievers would be locked out by the bleak
mountain ranges and burning plain ; the Saints them-
selves would be locked in, and held to faith and
discipline by sheer force of iron circumstances,

[217]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

In late July the exiles wearily climbed a peak that
looked down upon the Great Salt Lake, and as they
saw the yellow desert, guarded on every side by the
Oquirrh and Wasatch ranges, they threw their hands
to heaven in a great gesture, and Brigham Young
declared it to be Zion. He was sick, sick almost unto
death, but with the stubborn resolution that never
failed him, he drove his people to ploughing and
planting, building and ditching, and drew up the plans
for a city of broad streets and pleasant homes, built
about a temple lot of " forty acres adorned with trees
and ponds."

Work well under way, he set out again through the
blazing heat on the return journey to Council Bluffs,
and in May of 1848 he led his thousands across the
prairies into the Promised Land, calming their appre-
hensions by simple assurance that this dreary desert
should be made to blossom as the rose.

The country was divided into Stakes of Zion, each
stake into wards, and over each ward was a bishop,
reporting to Brigham Young on the lives and very
thoughts of each man and woman, so that at all times
the most remote settler was under the president '& eye.

As fixed and rugged as the mountain crags about
him, Brigham Young had need of strength, for the
state that he built was at first without other founda-
tions than his own shoulders.

Even as he planned vast irrigation schemes, huge
cooperative enterprises and public works for the pre-
vention of unemployment and poverty, so did he settle
personal quarrels, advise as to marriage, trade and
profession, lay down rules of personal conduct, pre-
scribe the proper clothing to be worn, draw up laws,
plan an educational system and administer each in-
dividual life completely and continuously.

[218]

TEE PROMISED LAND

He even told his people when to laugh and when to
play, taking personal direction of balls and parties,
and ordering amatenr theatricals. When he built a
great theater, feeling that Mormon existence needed
more color, there was a room off the stage where he
sat after each performance and administered praise
and rebukes. The elder Sothern, Adelaide Neilson,
Lawrence Barrett, John McCulloch, Mr. and Mrs.
Frances Marion Bates, and all the other great actors
of their day were brought to Salt Lake, and each and
every one enjoyed the experience of listening to
Brigham Young's frank estimate of their ability.

A great cooperative community was his goal the
will and initiative of the individual subordinated to
the commonweal and his success will ever stand as
a proof of his greatness. Where Joseph Smith had
never been able to enforce his tithing system, Brigham
Young established it as an undeviating rule of daily
life, and as money poured into the coffers of the
church, the funds were used for cooperative ventures
of every kind that put the people in still larger de-
pendence upon the state.

The California gold rush of 1849 put the master-
ful patriarch to the test, for through his domain swept
the frantic throngs that shouted wild tales of incredi-
ble wealth to be picked up from the ground. But
Brigham Young wrapped Ms mighty arms about his
people, holding them fast against temptation, keeping
them to their fields even when grasshopper plagues
left bare the land, and the sun beat down like some
implacable enemy. It is to be admitted, of course, that
he used threats of hell-fire freely, promising deserters
eternal damnation, but, when all is said and done, the
thing that held the Mormons was Brigham Young's
mighty will.

[219]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

When the territory of Utah was organized in 1850,
more than eleven thousand people were in its borders,
and President Fillmore was compelled of necessity to
make Brigham Young the governor.

Now was the golden age of Mormonism, for its
missionaries traveled the world, and each year saw
the arrival of thousands of converts, bringing new
acreage under cultivation and adding tithes that gave
the church still greater wealth. Now was the new
faith powerful enough to stand against the world, and
in this belief President Young made public proclama-
tion of polygamy as a tenet and practise of the Church.

As far back as 1843 Joseph Smith had claimed to
have received the revelation authorizing plural
marriage. At the time of his death he had twenty-
seven wives. But it had been deemed wise to keep the
matter a secret from the outside world.

Brigham Young himself was eight times a husband
before leaving Nauvoo, and ever since then polygamy
had been explained and enjoined upon all Mormons,
so that secrecy became increasingly difficult as well as
irksome and humiliating.

Publicity aroused a certain indignation throughout
the United States, but it was not until 1856 that the
storm broke, for Fremont joined polygamy with
slavery as his issues in the presidential campaign,
branding both institutions as vile and barbarous.

As a consequence, pious James Buchanan found
himself faced by an outraged public opinion when he
came into the presidency, and was forced to remove
Brigham Young from office, appointing a new governor
and a brand-new lot of federal officials.

No whit awed, the Mormons shouted a message of
defiance, Young declaring that only the Lord Almighty
had power to remove him, and Buchanan, compelled to

[220]

TEE PROMISED LAND

accept the challenge, sent General Albert Sidney
Johnston into Utah at the head of one thousand five
hundred soldiers.

Young's answer was the bold sort of gesture that
might have been expected of him. He burned the
prairie before Johnston 's march, destroyed the two
forts where he had planned to camp, and ordered
thirty thousand people out of Salt Lake City into the
deserts of the south. Without one word of protest
men and women left their homes, driving wagons
loaded with household goods and children, journeying
into the wilderness even as they had left Nauvoo
eleven years before, and all that remained behind were
men with matches, under order to fire the city at sight
of the invaders.

It was a gallant gesture, well calculated to excite
admiration, but its effect was destroyed by the Moun-
tain Meadows massacre. Never was anything more
horrible and damnable, for the wagon trains of
Arkansas immigrants were butchered with a cold-
blooded ferocity that would have shamed Apaches.
They surrendered to John. D. Lee and his fellow
Mormons after a four days' battle, receiving assur-
ances that their lives would be spared, and all but
seventeen babies were shot down like dogs.

Small wonder that Brigham Young cried but in
rage and anguish against the criminal blunder of his
subordinates, but Lee had only practised what the
elders preached, and it became a necessity to throw
the powerful protection of the church about the mur-
derers. JSTot until 1876 was Lee found guilty* and shot
on the scene of his crime.

What saved the Mormons was the exigencies of
partisan politics in the "United States. The Republi-
cans, eager to destroy Buchanan and the Democratic

[221]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

party, brushed the Mountain Meadows massacre to
one side as the work of Indians, and started a passion-
ate attack on the government for persecuting a brave
people.

Noble Mormons! Poor Buchanan, deserted in an
undertaking that had been forced upon him by public
opinion, was compelled to compromise, and troops
were withdrawn from Utah on Brigham Young's bland
assurance that he stood ready at all times to obey any
just law and to give support to any honest official,
himself being the one judge of honesty and justice.

The Civil War, with its tremendous preoccupations,
wiped the Mormons from people's thoughts, and once
again working with a free hand, the masterful presi-
dent turned his attention to various evidences of
revolt that had manifested themselves as a conse-
quence of domestic disorder.

One Joseph Morris presumed to set himself up as
a Messiah, and Young's soldiers, capturing the strong-
hold after a three days' battle, shot down Morris and
various associates, a stern lesson that was not with-
out its effect, for Messianic pretensions were notice-
able by their absence from that time on.

With the ending of the Civil War, however, public
attention once again centered itself upon the Mormons
and their polygamous practises, and from every pulpit
thundered denunciations against Utah as a collection
of Sodoms and Gomorrahs. Weird tales of secret
vilenesses spread, the land shuddered at accounts of
the murderous activities of Brigham Young's Destroy-
ing Angels, and McKee Eankin won fame and fortune
with his play, The Danites, a blood-and-thunder drama
built around the All Seeing Eye of Utah.

It was cried through the country that Brigham
Young had twenty-five wives and fifty-six children.

[222]

THE PROMISED LAND

and when he married Ann Eliza "Webb in 1868 the
groom sixty-six and the bride twenty-four indigna-
tion flamed to such a pitch that the federal authorities
went to work and some time later indicted the old
president for lascivious conduct.

Bill Hickman, claiming to have been Brigham
Young's Destroying Angel, wrote his confessions at
this time and an indictment for murder was also
returned. The Supreme Court of the United States,
however, refused to approve the practise of handpick-
ing non-Mormon jurors to consider Mormon cases, and
the president was never brought to trial.

Against the public opinion of the United States
and the whole force of government, Brigham Young
maintained a proud, unlowered crest, as rugged and
impregnable as any Wasatch peak or Oquirrh crag.
More than any mere passion of religious conviction
hardened his gray eye and stiffened that jutting under
jaw. When the people of the United States had feared
the desert, shrinking from its terrors, he had pitched
the tents of his people amid the sands. By the iron
of his will and the sweat of his soul he had founded
cities and a brand new civilization in the wilderness;
all was of his own creation, and by the Grod of Moses,
Abraham and Isaac, he would hold for his people what
lie had won for his people.

The Edmunds Act of 1882, punishing polygamous
practises by fine and imprisonment, filled the jails with
Mormons and sent their leaders flying to secret moun-
tain haunts. In 1890 President Wilf ord Woodruff was
to issue a proclamation ordering polygamy >s discon-
tinuance, and urging all Mormons to bow before the
law of the land, but until the day of his death, Brigham
Young beat down the attack of the outside world,
massive and unafraid as a great herd bull.

[223]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

When he breathed his last on August 29, 1877, he
looked out upon a people strong and safe behind the
walls that his genius and courage had builded, and it
was with unbowed head that he went before his Lord.

[224]

3S"AHGY HA^KS BOY

THE cabin that shiftless Thomas Lincoln built in
the Indiana wilderness was without floor or windows,
and inclosed on three sides only, the front left open,
save for some flapping skins, to the wind and snows of
winter. From his hard cold pallet, the boy Abraham
could see the immensity of the heavens, watch helpless
trees bend before the storm, and hear the howl of wild
beasts as they padded the forest aisles. He was but
nine when his mother died, life leaving the poor, work-
worn body as if ashamed to stay longer in such a
shabby tenement, and his hands helped to make the
rude coffin and dig the hole in the ground.

It was these early years that scarred the sensitive
soul of Abraham Lincoln, and set Ms face in lines of
tragedy. It was always as if his sad eyes looked down
upon that most miserable of graves, as if his heart
chilled again to the cold and loneliness of those black
nights, the days of drudgery and hopelessness.

He longed for learning with an instinctive passion
and to the gallery of painful memories were added the
evenings that he toiled over dog-eared books by the
light of pine knots, or laboriously fashioned letters
with charcoal on the wooden fire shovel.

They were experiences that gave him kinship with
the beaten and driven of the world, but they gave him
also a sense of defeat, burdening him with a dreadful
melancholy that often plunged into a state of mind

[225]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

where self-destruction seemed the one escape. If he
laughed at the tragedy of life, it was only that he
might bear it.

A rail splitter, a riverman, a storekeeper, a deputy
surveyor not one of these ventures of his first man-
hood held sufficient success to lift the pall of disbelief
in his ability, and when he entered politics it was
without other idea than the capitalization of his one
proved asset, a genius for inspiring trust and liking.

There may have been a touch of pity in the regard
of his neighbors, for the gaunt, shambling figure and
wistful face gave an impression of utter unfitness for
the competitive struggle, but there was also sincere
affection, for he had about him a mysterious quality
that went straight to the hearts of people.

Various years in the Illinois Legislature were fol-
lowed by a term in Congress, but his opposition to the
Mexican War curdled public sentiment, and when he
finally stepped out of office all of his old doubts and
fears returned with crushing force.

How could he, the once unlettered rail splitter, a
homely figure of fun, dare to hope for more than the
mercies of life? Dejectedly, almost despairingly, he
took up his humble law practise, torn between Ms in-
ability to charge poor people for his services and the
necessity of providing for wife and children, together
with the aid demanded by a mortgage-ridden father.

All this while Stephen Douglas, four years Lin-
coln's junior, had been mounting to the heights in an
unbroken series of triumphant leaps. Secretary of
Illinois, judge of the Supreme Court, a congressman, a
senator, blazing through the political firmament like a
comet, what wonder that poor Lincoln murmured,
"With me the race of ambition has been a flat failure.
With him it has been one of splendid success. "

[226]

NANCY HANKS' BOY

And now in 1854, needing only the larger favor of
the South to give him the Democratic nomination for
the presidency, Douglas smashed the Missouri Com-
promise, creating the territories of Nebraska and
Kansas with power in the people to admit slavery if
they chose.

Save for a few fanatics, such as Garrison and Stun-
ner, the North had accepted slavery as a settled fact,
asking only that it be kept south of the line fixed in
1820, but with this agreement violated with the evil
institution turned loose to roam at will there came
anger and fierce indignation.

The news, reaching Springfield, was a clarion that
called Abraham Lincoln from his dejection and humil-
ity. As if some spring had been released, his soul rose
above its fears and defeats, and as if it had only been
waiting for a higher call than selfish ambition, the
genius of the man began to flame.

As a riverman, standing beside the slave blocks in
New Orleans, he had loathed the infamous traffic in
human beings. But with clearer vision than any other
of his time, he saw beyond the pathos of slavery and
grasped its menace to the permanence of the Union.
"I tell you, Dickey, " he cried to his roommate after a
sleepless night, "this nation can not exist half-slave
and half-free. "

The dreams of Jefferson had not come true in full
measure, but in union Lincoln ever beheld the hope of
humanity, and with the deep passions of his nature
aroused at last, he sprang forward to do battle with
the dangers that threatened.

In speeches that thrilled by their troth and power,
he attacked Douglas, and when the new Eepublican
party held its first convention in 1856, he left the
Whigs forever, and made common cause with those

[227]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

who branded the Kansas-Nebraska Bill as "a covenant
with death, an agreement with hell."

There came the Dred Scott Decision, with Chief
Justice Taney holding that slaves were property, pro-
tected by the Constitution, and that Congress was
withont power to exclude slavery from territory ac-
quired subsequent to the formation of the national
government.

Douglas broke with Buchanan over the President's
attempt to force the admission of Kansas as a slave
state, and returned to Illinois to ask re-election. Be-
cause of his brave stand, Seward and Greeley and
other Eepublican leaders urged that he should not be
opposed, but Lincoln refused to heed these feverish
suggestions, and took the field to fight for the Senate
seat. He knew that Douglas ? stand had not been based
upon any conviction as to the evil of slavery, knew
also that his reelection meant no more than a truce, a
compromise, and with iron determination set out to
lay the deeper issues bare.

He was beaten, but in the defeat there was none of
the old hopelessness. At Freeport he had compelled
Douglas to admit that the people of a territory had
the right to exclude slavery, a flat repudiation of the
Dred Scott Decision, and with that uncanny ability to
fathom the future, Lincoln knew that he had destroyed
Douglas as a victorious candidate in 1860. As for him-
self, certain tremendous phrases had flung loose from
his speeches and were finding lodgment in the hearts
of men. "A house divided against itself can not
stand, " and "No man is good enough to govern
another without the other's consent 77 made plain
people everywhere look to the uncouth Illinois lawyer
as a leader.

Seward, a mighty figure, seemed certain, of the Be-

[228]

NANCY HANKS 9 BOY

publican nomination, with, brilliant Salmon P. Chase a
second choice, yet when the convention met in Chicago,
Abraham Lincoln was named on the third ballot.

How the high gods must have laughed! Seward,
the man who was to put free institutions in peril by
his invariable willingness to compromise, was thrust
aside as "too radical," and Lincoln, with principles
bed-rocked in the granite of an unyielding faith, was
chosen for his greater pliability.

As Lincoln had foreseen, the South refused to for-
give Douglas for his Freeport doctrine, and out of the
Democratic convention came three tickets, an insane
division of strength. Lincoln won, but his vote
1,866,452 against 2,815,617 for Douglas, Breckinridge,
and Bell proved him the choice of a minority, and
straightway six southern states followed the example
of South Carolina in seceding from the Union. Once
he might have felt a vast wonder and pride in his
elevation to the great office, but now the certainty of
hate and bloodshed made him turn to his God with a
prayer for strength.

In Washington he found a loneliness as sad as
those nights when he stared through the flapping
skins into the black Indiana woods.

The powerful commercial interests did not want
war. Foolish G-reeley preached the necessity of com-
promise. Seward and other powerful leaders were
seeking to evade the issue. Only Lincoln, shrinking in
anguish from the horrors that loomed, faced the sit-
uation and realized it as one that had to be met.

Out in Missouri the egregious Fremont proclaimed
the emancipation of slaves, and when Lincoln, appre-
ciating both its illegality and its bad effect upon
wavering Kentucky, Missouri and Maryland, revoked
the order, a cry of rage went up from the abolitionists.

[229]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

"How long/' piped James Russell Lowell, who had
urged Americans to desert during the Mexican War,
"how long are we to save Kentucky and lose our self-
respect!"

Radicals clamored for Lincoln's impeachment, and
Greeley hounded with vindictive fanaticism, drawing
from the President this simple declaration of purpose:
"My paramount object is to save the Union, and not
either to save or to destroy slavery."

Edwin M. Stanton, a Democrat, had led in the
business of abuse and insult, and even when Lincoln
called him to be Secretary of "War, eager for his hon-
esty and force, the arrogant, irascible man persisted
in his contempt and use of bitter epithets. It was not
only that McClellan richly earned the title of the "Vir-
ginia Creeper" by his excessive caution; at all times
he failed in appreciation of the President's protective
friendship. It was Lincoln who waited on McClellan,
and the "Little Napoleon," bored by what he deemed
an impertinent curiosity as to his plans, finally sent
down word one night that he was "too tired" to be
bothered.

Charles Surrmer, the Boston Brahman, proud of his
learning, his three languages, his European intimates,
his London clothes and white spats, whipped a Senate
group to daily attack; and high-headed, irresponsible
Mrs. Lincoln went out of her way to heap social favors
on this sneering, jibing enemy of her husband. Dele-
gations of ministers invaded the White House regu-
larly to instruct harassed Lincoln as to the "will of
G-od," hectoring him as though he were a schoolboy;
and to add to his heart-break, Willie, his little son,
died of a fever.

Nowhere was there a helping hand that reached
out. Emancipation, with him, was a thing second only

[230]

NANCY HANKS 9 BOY

to the preservation of tlie Union, yet Ms way was
thick with obstacles.

To declare all slaves free was an impossibility, for
there were always the Border States to consider, nor
was it in Lincoln's heart to ruin the South, for he
looked on slavery as the sin of a whole nation. Grad-
ual and compensated emancipation was what he
planned and hoped for, but Congress bared its teeth
in an ugly snarl, and would have none of it. On Jan-
uary 1, 1863, therefore, he signed the proclamation
that gave freedom to all slaves in the seceding states,
frankly recognizing it as a war measure.

Abuse redoubled, for the radicals attacked him for
not proclaiming universal emancipation, and the
others abused him for his defiance of the Constitution.

Hooker followed Burnside, Pope and McClellan,
and proved no more of a match for the genius of Lee
and Jackson. After bloody Fredericksburg the un-
happy President had bowed his head and cried, "If
there is a man out of perdition who suffers more than
I do, I pity him."

Now when the news of Chancellorsville came to
him, it seemed that he could stand no more, yet always
by some miracle he found new wells of fortitude to
draw on. Added to all were the ceaseless streams of
wretched fathers and mothers, begging the lives of
sons about to be shot for desertion or some failure of
military duty, and night and day he sent his telegrams
of pardon and reprieve, perhaps the one joy that came
to him.

"What isolated him most was that he refused to turn
his heart over to hate. He did not call the Confed-
erates "rebels," or curdle his soul with plans of pun-
ishment and revenge; all he wanted was to get the
seceding states back into the Union, letting f orgive-

[231]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

ness follow peace. In Ms message of December 8,
1863, lie offered amnesty to all who would take oath
"to support, protect and defend 5 ' the Constitution,
and his reconstruction policy, exemplified in the state
governments of Louisiana and Arkansas, was frankly
designed to restore the old status of the Confederate
States without attempt to penalize them for their
attempt to break the bonds of union.

Like so many wolves the congressional group
sprang to the attack, arrogant Sumner in the Senate,
and crippled Thaddeus Stevens, half -crazed by pain,
malice and fanaticism, screaming his opposition in the
House. Vituperative "Old Ben" Wade and acrid
Henry "Winter Davis followed close behind, and the
President was made to understand that reconstruction
was none of his concern, being a matter entirely within
the jurisdiction of the legislative branch. The bill
that they drew up was barren of mercy, harsh and
cruel in every provision, and Lincoln turned away in
disgust when it came to his desk for signature.

The way of hate was so much the easiest way. At
the time the bill reached him July, 1864 he had just
been renominated with the irrepressible Fremont run-
ning as the candidate of the radical Republicans,
threatening to divide party strength. All that he
needed to do was to put away the tendernesses of fra-
ternity, joining Sumner, Wade and Stevens in their
devil dancing, and factional discord would have dis-
appeared at once. It was not even a temptation to
that steadfast soul, and although his worn face may
have taken on an added grayness, he refused to sign
the bill, and bowed his head to new storms of vile
abuse.

Wade and Davis issued a manifesto, attacking not
only his ability as an executive, but likewise his hon-

[232]

NANCY HANKS' BOY

esty and Ms honor. In his very Cabinet the sneaking
Chase planned treachery and betrayal. And in Sep-
tember the Democrats nominated McClellan on a
platform that contained these words: "That this
convention does explicitly declare, as the sense of the
American people, that after four years of failure to
restore the Union by the experiment of war . . .
justice, humanity, liberty, and the public welfare de-
mand that immediate efforts be made for a cessation
of hostilities."

Greeley, whose genius consisted principally in the
impassioned advocacy of every wrong and stupid
course, reiterated the accusation of failure, moaned
daily about "our bleeding, bankrupt, almost dying
country, " accused Lincoln of prolonging the war for
"his own evil purposes," and demanded peace in order
to avoid "new rivers of human blood."

Another faction talked seriously of putting Lincoln
aside, and drafting Grant to take his place; and always
Sumner, Wade and Stevens berated and reviled him
for not prosecuting? the war with greater savagery.

He felt himself a beaten man, deserted by the peo-
ple and crucified by the politicians. But when Sher-
man's successes in the South turned the tide of public
opinion when the elections resulted so overwhelm-
ingly in his favor there was no word of exultation,
only a new affirmation of his love and compassion not
hate nor revenge, but the finer, dearer task of "bind-
ing up the nation's wounds," facing peace "with
malice towards none, with charity for all."

Fast and faster events rushed to the end. laiate
March, the President went down the river to City
Point where Grant was preparing for a final thrust at
Lee's staggering army. Victory was plainly in sight,
but as the Union forces attacked in a last assault on

[233]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Petersburg, Lincoln's weary eyes seemed to follow
every bullet tliat found its mark brothers killing
brothers and all night long he walked the deck of his
steamer in an agony of pain. Even when word came
of the evacuation of Richmond, his joy was poisoned
by the sight of Confederate prisoners, ragged, starv-
ing, and tears were in his eyes as he murmured, "Poor
fellows! Poor fellows I"

It was in this spirit that he faced the peace. Speak-
ing to a great crowd before the White House on the
evening of April eleventh Ms last public utterance
he took his stand against any and all programs of
vindictiveness. What he wanted, what he meant to
do, was to bring the seceded states back into their
"proper practical relation to the Union,' 5 He did not
propose to bother with the "mere pernicious abstrac-
tion" as to whether these states had been out of the
Union. "Finding themselves at home, it would be
utterly immaterial whether they had ever been
abroad/'

Better than any one he knew that such a position
might well mean his own political destruction. Al-
ready the venomous congressional group had defeated
a proposal to recognize the state government of
Louisiana, and Stevens was openly regarding Lincoln
as a traitor. They intended to treat the Confederate
States as conquered provinces, lying at the mercy of
the victor, and in their hearts was the full determina-
tion to put the beaten South under the heels of the
manumitted blacks, Sumner boldly proclaiming that
the ex-slaves were far better equipped to form and
operate a republican form of government than their
old masters.

Theirs was the power. The soldiers themselves
were without rancor, for they had only respect for a
foe that had fought valiantly in defense of a cause

[234]

NANCY HANKS' EOT

they believed to be just, but at their backs were
the millions of stay-at-homes, meanly concerned with
irritations attendant upon material losses, and the
clamant politicians, eager to regain prestige by noisy
ferocities and base appeals to the savagery that lies in
the mud at the bottom of human character.

A little later Andrew Johnson was to be impeached
for daring to follow the Lincoln policy, and in four
years Ulysses S. Grant himself was to be beaten to the
will of Congress in reconstruction measures.

Lincoln knew, yet the certain knowledge was with-
out power to compel a single selfish thought. He was
not a churchman, only a humble follower of Jesus
Christ, trying to live the Sermon on the Mount, and in
the life of the Savior he found no word of hatred and
vengefulness. On the morning of Good Friday he sat
with his Cabinet and told them his hope of a speedy
reconciliation unmarred by angers and resentments,
and at the close he confided a dream that had visited
his sleep the night before. In this dream he had been
in a singular and indescribable vessel, moving swiftly
and irresistibly toward a dark and indefinite shore.

That very night crazy John Wilkes Booth crept
into the box at Ford's Theater and shot him down, and
by one of fate's savage ironies, those who watched him
die were men that had fought and derided him,
Charles Sumner monopolizing the place at the head of
the bed, dramatizing his tears.

Yet what did it matter? A weary soul knew rest
at last, and the blood that dripped from his wound
gave the flag a new glory, Christ's words a new mes-
sage. Hate was to run its brutal course for many a
sad and terrible year, but in the end a day dawned
when a reunited nation knelt to the memory of the
"rail splitter," the South joining with the North in
appreciation of Ms faith and love and justice.

[235]

XX

THE MAST WHO CAME BACK

THE outbreak of the Civil "War found Ulysses S.
Grant a humble clerk in Galena, Illinois, so cowed and
beaten by the struggle with life that he was pathet-
ically grateful for the eight hundred dollars a year
that his more successful brothers flung him.

Looking up from an abyss of failure to where the
sun shone high above, he saw the friends of his youth
called to high command by North and South Lee,
McClellan, Jackson, Sherman, the two Johnstons,
Thomas, Longstreet, Buell, Beauregard, Pickett, Eoso-
crans men who had been his mates at "West Point or
else his companions in arms under Taylor and Scott in
Mexico. As they rushed forward to grasp their
chance of glory, admired and honored, the broken
Grant drew back still deeper into the shadow, sick
with the humiliation of his own shabby obscurity.

It was not even the case that his descent had been
attended by any dignity; everything about it was mean
and sordid* Awkward and tongue-tied, never a reader,
lacking the social graces and without taste for sport,
the unhappy, debt-ridden young lieutenant possessed
no resources to fight the monotonous round of gar-
rison duty that followed the high excitement of the
Mexican campaign. As a consequence, he fell into in-
temperate habits, and there came the bitter day in
1854 when he resigned his commission rather than
face the charge of drunkenness that was about to be
brought against him*

[236]

TEE MAN WHO CAME BACK

What followed was the drudging life of a day
laborer. Settling on an eighty-acre tract near St.
Louis, the gift of his father-in-law, the disgraced sol-
dier tried to earn a living for his wife and children by
peddling grain and cord-wood. But even in this he
was a failure.

A brief adventure In the real-estate business added
to his reputation for incompetency, and it was in
frank acceptance of defeat that he threw himself upon
the charity of shrewd old Jesse Grant, now a success-
ful tanner. Given a clerkship, he sank into the petty
routine with a sigh of relief, retaining no larger ambi-
tion in life than to win an increase in his meager pay
and perhaps ultimately become a partner in the busi-
ness.

Fort Sumter set fire to Galena along with the rest
of the North, but it was only when raw recruits milled
in wild confusion that some one remembered the small,
round-shouldered clerk who trudged the streets in a
frayed army coat.

Rescued from his office stool, Grant proved a good
drill-master, but politicians seized the corn-missions,
and it was still as a private citizen that he trailed to
Springfield in the wake of the companies. A three-
dollar-a-day job in the adjutant-general *s depart-
ment was gratefully accepted and, this work finished,
he slumped back to Galena, dumbly resigned to his
shabby lot.

At this point it is as if Destiny, looking about for
instruments with which to work her will, gave im-
perious orders for Grant's elevation. Governor Yates,
undoubtedly sick of clamoring politicians, suddenly
bethought himself of the silent, tmaskiug little drill-
master with a Mexican War record ; in mid- June Grant
received Ms appointment as a colonel of volunteers*

[337]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Assigned to a colorless, uneventful round of police
duty in Missouri, lie lapsed into obscurity again, yet
August saw him made a brigadier-general, a promo-
tion that astounded him even more than it did his
fellows. The Galena congressman, like Tates, had
grown sick of noisy inefficients, and when Lincoln
asked for recommendations, competent, conscientious
Grant shot into his mind.

These things done, Destiny turned away for the
moment, leaving Grant to prove his mettle against the
forces of contempt, dislike and persecution. "I will
not serve under a drunkard," cried the angry Pren-
tiss, voicing the bitterness of other officers, and Major-
General John Charles Fremont, as reckless and
irresponsible as in the days of the Bear Flag, checked
his subordinate's rising energy at every turn.

Even when Lincoln removed the Pathfinder from
his high command, the change advantaged Grant but
little, for Halleck, new head of the Department of the
West, was an enemy from the first.

Grant's virtual dismissal from the army was a
disgrace that Halleck refused to forget, and this dis-
taste was accentuated by Grant's personal uncouth-
ness, taciturnity and open disdain for books on
tactics. On every occasion the "leather clerk" was
snubbed, left to cool his heels in anterooms, or curtly
informed that when his advice was wished it would
be asked for.

The Confederate line, reaching from Cumberland
Gap to the Mississippi, had been stretched by Albert
Sidney Johnston until it was weak at vital points, and
in spite of repeated insults Grant continued to urge
the feasibility of an attack on Fort Henry and Fort
Donelson.

Not until February, 1862, however, was the can-

[238]

TEE MAN WHO GAME BACK

tions Halleck badgered into consent, and with the
spring of a tiger Grant captured Fort Henry and
dashed on to Donelson where General Pillow lay be-
hind strong intrenchments.

Desperate was the undertaking, but Grant had
fought side by side with Pillow in Mexico, and his low
estimate was sustained by events, for the Confederate
commander gave battle for one day only, leaving
Simon B. Buckner to arrange a surrender. It was in
response to a request for an armistice that Grant re-
turned his famous answer, "No terms except an
unconditional and immediate surrender/ 7 and as a
result fifteen thousand southerners laid down their
arms, and the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers were
open to the Union forces.

Overnight the shabby Brigadier-General, but the
year before a broken, dispirited clerk, became the
hero of a nation. Sick of defeats, retreats and delays,
the North took victor and victory to its heart, and
Lincoln expressed the will of the Union when he made
Grant a major-general of volunteers.

Nothing seemed more certain than that his place
in the sun was fixed, for success lifted the dead weight
of failure from his soul, and the shock of battle burst
through the sluggish indolence that had buried his
natural genius. Yet the very hour of his triumph saw
him returned to the shadows, for even as he planned
another and bolder campaign, Halleck invented pre-
texts to relieve him from active duty, actually threat-
ening him with arrest.

For a dark while the fate of Grant and the Union
hung by a hair, for McClellan, deceived by false re-
ports, gave full assent to the proceedings, but Hal-
leck 'B malice lacked courage, and Grant was finally
restored to high command.

[239]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

Still the shadows clustered, black with disgrace,
for in April came the bloody field of Shiloh, bringing
such storms of hate and execration that it did not seem
possible for Grant to retain heart or hope or rank.
What did it matter that the campaign against Corinth
was entirely Halleck's, and that Grant's sole fault was
in reaching the rendezvous ahead of Buell?

Dashing Albert Sidney Johnston, refusing to await
attack, slipped out of Corinth with forty thousand
men and, marching swiftly through the forests, struck
the unsuspecting Grant with resistless fury.

Night saw the Union forces beaten and demoral-
ized, but Johnston fell while leading a charge, and
Beauregard, assuming command, suspended hostili-
ties, overruling the impassioned protests of Bragg and
other officers. The halt permitted Buell to reach the
field with thirty-seven thousand men, and the Con-
federates withdrew, retreating without sustained
pursuit.

When Grant reported the loss of twelve thousand
men, a wave of unreasoning anger swept the North.
People and press screamed that he had let himself be
surprised because of drunkenness, cursing him as a
" butcher, " and Senator Harlan of Iowa expressed
popular passion when he declared that " those who
continue Grant in an active command will carry on
their skirts the blood of thousands of their slaughtered
countrymen/'

Powerful delegations visited the White House, de-
manding the disgrace of an "incompetent command-
er/' but Lincoln shook his head, making answer, "I
can't spare this man. He fights. "

Even so, humiliation was not averted, for Halleck's
hatred took advantage of public clamor, and Grant
was sent to his tent without larger occupation than

[240]

THE MAN WHO CAME SACK

finger twiddling. As he sat alone, unmerited disgrace
biting deep into Ms soul, something of the old hope-
lessness must have returned, bringing a resolve to
quit the army and its mean persecutions, and this he
would have done but for the intervention of William
T. Sherman.

On the surface, no two men ever had less in com-
mon than fiery, explosive Sherman, as voluble as he
was dynamic, and inarticulate, unemotional Grant, yet
their hearts came together from the first, and only
death broke the wonderful friendship.

"With all the force of his ardent nature, Sherman
beat at Grant's determination, and in July, fortunately
enough, ponderous Halleck was called to "Washington
to be general-in-chief .

As second in command, Grant took charge of the
armies of the "West, and began to prepare to deliver a
long-planned blow against Vicksburg. He himself
was to march by land, with Sherman floating down the
Mississippi from Memphis.

The campaign looked well enough on paper, but
Van Dorn burned the supply depot at Holly
Springs, and Nathan Bedford Forrest destroyed some
sixty-odd miles of communication. Three weeks
passed before discomfited Grant could establish con-
tact with Memphis, and then only to learn that Sher-
man had been beaten back with heavy loss.

A poor beginning for 1863, nor was it bettered by
three more futile attacks, all delivered from different
angles and all repulsed. Here again, however, we
have a manifestation of Destiny's continued interest
Jn the silent, buffeted soldier who was to save the
Union. Charles A. Dana happened to be at Grant's
side throughout the Vicksburg campaign, and had the
vision to see through the dull exterior down to the

[241]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

indomitable, inflexible spirit that lay beneath. As
politicians clamored for Grant's removal (he was de-
nounced as a failure right np to the day of success)
Dana wrote daily letters to Lincoln insisting upon
Grant's essential greatness.

What need to tell in detail of this faith's amazing
justification? There is no more shining chapter in
history than the passage of the Mississippi on April
thirtieth, the iron thrust into the heart of the enemy's
country, with five great victories as a crown of daring,
all ending in that tremendous morning of July fourth
when thirty-seven thousand Confederate soldiers laid
down their arms in full surrender.

The same voices that had cursed Grant as a
"butcher" now hailed him as a savior; Lincoln made
him a major-general in the regular army; Stanton
created the Division of the Mississippi, putting the
new idol in supreme command; and Fortune, as if re-
penting her malice, gave him immediate and larger
opportunity for glory.

Proceeding to Chattanooga, where Bosecrans lay
under the threat of Confederate armies massed on
Lookout Mountain and Missionary Eidge, Grant sur-
veyed the ground with characteristic imperturb-
ability, and laid out his usual careful plan of battle.

A month he waited, for what he had in mind was
a crushing blow, and not until November twenty-third,
when he had assembled sixty thousand men, did he
give the word to attack.

Three days the struggle raged above the clouds,
but Grant was not to be denied, and before the furious
assaults of Sherman, Thomas and Hooker, defeated
Bragg led his men in disorderly retreat.

Small wonder that the people of the North con-
trasted these victorious campaigns with the series of

[242]

TEE MAN WHO CAME BACK

tragic reverses that had attended Union arms in the
East. By March, 1862, McClellan had assembled and
trained an army of two hundred and forty thousand,
four times the number of the force opposed to him, yet
this superior strength had availed him nothing.

In his Valley campaigns, "Stonewall" Jackson
had smashed Fremont, Banks and McDowell in swift
succession one hundred and seventy-five thousand
men completely demoralized by less than sixteen thou-
sand. McClellan himself was given a bitter taste of
Joseph Johnston's quality at Fair Oaks, and Lee
whipped him back in the Seven Days* Battle, com-
pelling an abandonment of the whole Richmond cam-
paign.

No less humiliating were the performances of the
bombastic Pope. Even as he bragged of victory, Jack-
son swept around his flank with twenty thousand men,
marching fifty miles in two days, and burned the great
supply depot at Manassas Junction, almost within
sight of Washington. After this came the second bat-
tle of Bull Eun, a ghastly rout for the boastful Pope,
and but for the fact that Lee's men had been without
food for three days Washington would have been
captured.

General Ambrose Burnside, coming to command,
had met with overwhelming defeat at Fredericksburg,
although he pitted one hundred and twenty-two
thousand men against Lee's seventy-nine thousand,
and Hooker, who came next in the dreary succession
of failures, met disaster in the battle of Chancellors-
ville.

Here again the odds were in the North *B favor
one hundred and thirty-two thousand against forty-
five thousand but only the death of "Stonewall"
Jackson saved Hooker's demoralized army from cap-

[243]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

tare. Meade, succeeding Hooker, beat Lee back at
Gettysburg, but the rest of 1863 was frittered away in
indecisive maneuvers.

Grant's victories shot the one gleam of light
through the North's sick despair, and weary Lincoln
turned to him as one sent from heaven. Here at last
was a man who knew how to employ superior strength;
a commander careless of tactics and contemptuous of
maneuvers, asking only for a 'grip on the enemy's
throat, then holding with unbreakable tenacity.

"Without more ado, Grant was made lieutenant-
general, the first to hold that high rank since George
Washington, and on March 9, 1864, he assumed the
duties of commander-in-chief, and put himself face to
face with Lee in Virginia.

The tanner's son against the patrician, the sledge-
hammer against the sword. Throughout his life
Grant had never fished nor hunted, unable to bear the
cruelty of so-called sports, for suffering sickened him.
Yet now, with the fate of a nation at stake, he planned
a campaign that was to be without parallel in its mer-
ciless disregard of human life.

The Union had four men to the South 's one; as fast
as a northerner fell, there were three to take his place,
while Lee was entirely without reserves. Attrition!
That was Grant's word to Lincoln, and with it as his
pledge and grim resolve he hurled himself at Lee's
throat.

Other generals had been obsessed by the dream of
Eichmond's capture; only Grant had the vision to see
that the real heart of the Confederacy was Eobert E.
Lee, and with iron resolution and unwearying tenacity
he began the pursuit.

Facing one hundred and twenty thousand men with
less than seventy thousand, the southern general rose

[244]

TEE MAN WHO CAME BACK

to new heights of audacity and genius. Falling upon
Grant in the Wilderness on May fifth and sixth, he
dealt a terrible blow that left eighteen thousand Union
soldiers dead and wounded upon the field. At Spott-
sylvania Court Honse he struck again on the eighth,
and still again at North Anna on the twenty-first, but
instead of the flight and demoralization that attended
the defeats of McClellan, Grant merely drove forward
with fiercer determination.

What were the lives of men when the life of a
nation was at state! Only a bridge of dead bodies
could bring him to the final grapple that would end the
horror of war, and with set face that gave no sign of
the anguish that must have torn his soul, Grant built
the bridge. His message, "I purpose to fight it out on
this line, if it takes all summer, " gave reassurance to
the harassed President, but to Lee it must have had
the melancholy toll of a funeral bell.

On June third came the tragedy of Cold Harbor.
Lee, crouched behind strong entrenchments with his
battered army, had no thought of anything but siege
or flank attack, but Grant, in dogged adherence to his
policy of attrition, ordered a direct frontal assault.

Not even the charge of the Light Brigade was more
hopeless or devoted than the forward sweep of those
blue lines, for when the Union forces fell back at the
end of sixty terrible minutes, more than six thousand
men were left behind on the blood-soaked field. To
have asked permission to care for his dead and
wounded would have been to confess defeat, and the
extent to which Grant had steeled his soul may be
judged from the fact that he bore the terror of con-
sequences rather than stimulate enemy morale by
admitting failure*

Well might the North have cried its agony, for in

[245]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

the two-months campaign, Grant had lost seventy-two
thousand. The iron commander, however, paid no
heed to clamor, for his losses had been replaced at
once, while Lee, without reserves, looked around him
at an army that was no more than a mere shell, and
knew that his victories had been defeats. Lincoln,
although sick at heart, had been won to implicit belief
in Grant's strategy, and stood fast against the bedlam
of protest and denunciation.

Now resolving to strike from a new angle, Grant
slipped away to Petersburg, twenty-two miles south of
Eichmond, but Beauregard held against all attacks for
three days, and on the fourth Lee and his army came
to the rescue. Frontal assaults cost ten thousand addi-
tional lives, but by now Grant had the long-waited
grip on Lee's throat, and sat down until he should
hear the death rattle.

The sudden cessation of attack impressed people
and politicians as a sign of defeat, nor was tempes-
tuous bitterness abated by Early 's daring raid to the
very gates of Washington. "Give us back McClel-
lan," rose the cry, and the unhappy President, forced
by Congress, was compelled to fix a day of " humilia-
tion and prayer."

Unmoved, inflexible, Grant asked for three hun-
dred thousand additional volunteers* Lincoln issued a
call for five hundred thousand, and in a message ex-
pressing his unfaltering confidence, urged his general
to "hold on with bulldog grip, and chew and choke as
much as possible."

Black and blacker grew the anger of the people
(in August Lincoln expressed the conviction that he
would not be reelected) but with that utter disregard
of public passion that marked his whole career, Grant
said no word, gave no sign, biting deeper and deeper.

[246]

TEE MAN WHO CAME BACK

Again, as if by a miracle, both the Administration
and Grant were saved by Sherman's brilliant successes
in the South. Entering Atlanta on September second,
he swept through Georgia to Savannah, leaving a trail
of desolation behind him that severed all connection
between the Confederacy and its western states, even
as it robbed Lee of all hope of further supplies. Had
Sherman been two months later, marching through
Georgia in November instead of September, there can
be no question but that the senseless wrath of the
people would have thrown Lincoln and Grant from the
seats of decision.

Peace discussions were begun in January, and for
one tremendous moment it was in the power of the
southern representatives to have averted the full dis-
aster of unconditional capitulation. Great-hearted
Lincoln, utterly without wish to crush, was willing
that the seceding states should return to the Union
without other penalty than the acceptance of emanci-
pation, and even in connection with this proviso there
was an offer of partial indemnification.

Not even Alexander Stephens, however, had the
vision to see the generosity of the terms, for it was
still a southern dream that the Confederacy could be
maintained, and once again the burden of a hopeless
defence was thrown upon the shoulders of Lee and
his starving army.

Day by day Grant drew his iron ring tighter and
tighter, and on April second the southern general
slipped out of Petersburg in a despairing attempt to
win a way through the Union lines and join the rem-
nants of Johnston's army in the Garolinas* Vain
hope! At every turn Grant met him, as inevitable and
implacable as fate.

At last, on April seventh, came the day to which

[247]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

all of the "leather clerk V strategy had been directed
during those wretched months that saw the rage of a
people bent upon his head. There before him stood his
great enemy, staggering, helpless, dumbly waiting for
the killing stroke, fully expectant of a last terrible,
shattering charge.

The word was not given. With mercy robbed of
danger, Grant's true nature was permitted to voice its
compassion, and there was nobility in the message that
he sent, begging Lee's surrender that the fratricidal
slaughter might be brought to an end. And again on
April ninth, when his fallen foe sat before him in the
tawdry house at Appomattox, he let the world see
deep into his long-hidden heart, for the terms that he
wrote breathed magnanimity and paved the way for
a peace without bitterness had the politicians not
dripped their poison into the wells of understanding.

What a note to have ended on! Instead of that,
popular enthusiasm, ever unthinking and indiscrim-
inant, pitchforked him into the presidency.

Never was one less fitted for high civil duties and
political contacts than the simple, trustful soldier, and
not the days of failure and obscurity were more bitter
than those ghastly years that robbed him of every
faith.

Swarming relatives hounded him for offices that he
lacked the heart to refuse : his appointments combined
farce and tragedy; without skill to effect his plans, he
found himself abetting the horrors and scandals of
Eeconstruction, breeding the very hates that he had
dreamed of allaying; his own loyalty was repaid by
criminal treachery, for when Black Friday shocked
the nation, his brother-in-law was found to have been
$he paid tool of Gould and Fisk; his Vice-President
gnd party counselors were disgraced by the Credit

[248]

THE MAN WHO GAME BACK

Mobilier exposures; Ms Secretary of "War and Secre-
tary of the Treasury were forced to resign under fire;
the scandals of the Whisky Ring grimed the personal
aide that he most loved and trusted in nothing was
he spared.

They tried to make him stand for a third term
these wolves that circled him but he turned away,
infinitely weary and soul-sick, and went to London for
a visit with his daughter that he might escape them
for a while. England's tumultuous reception of the
Man of Appomattox, however, gave new enthusiasm to
the schemers, and steady pressure forced unhappy
Grant into despairing acquiescence.

What was to be a trip became a parade (for its
effect on American opinion he was moved from
Europe to Palestine, India, Siam, China and Japan,
from Queen Victoria to Bismarck, Q-ambetta, the Czar,
the Pope, Li Hung Chang and the Mikado) his one
pleasure being to steal away and wander the streets,
rubbing elbows with plain people.

Two years and a half they kept him abroad, and
when his return in the autumn of 1879 was thought to
be too soon, they sent him to Cuba and Mexico. And
out of it all came only defeat, a cruel, humiliating de-
feat that scarred his heart. Nor was it yet the end.

Under the urging of his family, the penniless man
formed a partnership with Ferdinand Ward, and peo-
ple drew back in distaste from the sight of their idol
in Wall Street operations.

What need to go into the details of the shameful
crash. Stripped of everything save his own high sense
of honor, Gf-rant assigned even his medals, swords and
uniforms, and took to his pen, writing his memoirs
that he might make a living.

Cancer tore at his throat until every breath was an

[249]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

agony. His desk was a coffin lid. But indomitably lie
straggled, and as the country watched the simple old
warrior make his last fight, a wave of love swept away
the bitternesses of unhappy years, and it was in the
heart of the nation that they buried him.

[250]

THE GBAY GHOST OF THE SOUTH

PUTTING tlie bloody field of Shiloh behind him,
Sherman leaped in fierce pursuit of Beauregard's flee-
ing army* On he swept, contemptuous of resistance
and eager for the Mil, when suddenly a small group of
Confederates rode clear of underbrush at the top of a
fronting ridge. Only eight hundred against thou-
sands, yet they charged with such fury that cavalry
and infantry gave way before the shock, falling into
wild disorder.

The leader, a giant of a man riding without reins
that he might have both hands for blade and pistol,
was carried into the thick of the Federal columns, far
in advance of his troops, and it seemed his doom to be
bullet-riddled or hacked to pieces by the sabers that
slashed at him. Beaching down, he jerked up a soldier
to serve as a shield for his back, spurred his horse into
frenzied bounds, and swinging his sword like some
terrible scythe, galloped away to safety.

That Homeric creature was Nathan Bedford For-
rest, who was to be to the South what Eobert Bruce
was to the Scots, Scanderbeg to the Albanians, and
Marco Bozzaris to the Greeks. Having paralyzed the
Union advance with his handful, he managed to throw
off the effect of a ball through the body, and raced
from victory to victory for four long years elusive
as a phantom, sudden and deadly as the lightning
stroke building up a legend of invincibility until no
chieftain was so adored or more feared.

[251]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Small wonder that Sherman declared Mm "the
most remarkable man the Civil War produced on
either side," and that Lord Wolseley acclaimed him,
writing that Forrest divined the strategy of Alexander
and Hannibal without ever having heard of either.

Back of the meteoric rise to the esalted rank of
lieutenant-general was a youth as hard as the sterile
soil he fought for a living. A farm drudge while other
boys went to school the full care of a widowed mother
and ten brothers and sisters thrown upon him when
he was but sixteen ploughing all day and toiling late
at night over deer-skin coats and coon-skin caps, his
fingers deft for all their gnarled bigness what chance
had he to hear of the great soldiers of history, or do
more than learn the rudiments of reading and writing?

The enemy laughed at his "Grit thar fustest with
the mostest, ' ? but not for long. It was soon found to
mean day and night riding, regardless of storm,
hunger, or exhaustion, and catapult assaults that em-
ployed every man, rejecting the established theory of
reserves.

His "Scatter out, dammit! Scatter out!" put an
end to the stupid business of mass attacks on strong
positions, just as his practise of dismounting cavalry
"Git down an' git at 'em" was an intuitive appre-
ciation of the truth that horses were without other
military value than quick transportation to the field.

When he wrote on the back of an application, "I
told you twist (twice) Goddammit Jcnow," his own
men may have grinned, but there was no doubt as to
what he meant.

Never at any time was he in command of more than
five thousand men of tener it was a third of that num-
ber yet panic-stricken Federal generals regularly
estimated Forrest's "army" at twenty-five thousand.

[252]

He \vas always at the head of every charge

TEE GRA7 GHOST OF THE SOUTH

Boldly dividing a small force so as to attack on
four sides, throwing Ms artillery into the skirmish
line, beating drums at widely separated points, filling
a thicket with logs mounted on wagon frames, march-
ing a detachment round and round a hill, he was a
master at creating the illusion of a mighty array, and
it became his routine to demoralize vastly superior
forces or compel the surrender of garrisons twice as
large as his own small band. And always he was at
the head of every charge, searching for the weak point
in the enemy line, alert for the crucial moment when
victory hangs in the balance.

Had he held high command instead of hesitant
Braxton Bragg or blundering, headlong Hood, who
may say that the war might not have had a different
termination? Jefferson Davis, however, a West Point
product himself, cherished an unalterable faith in
"book generals," fully convinced that a diploma was
the one proof of military capacity. It was not only
that Forrest had neither blue blood nor education; the
professional soldiers, looking upon war as a game to
be played in strict accordance with set rules, were out-
raged by his repeated refusals to accept their bland
theories.

"War," said Forrest, "means fighting an* fightin'
means TrillrnV* His Damascus blade was ever ground
to a razor edge, open defiance of military etiquette, for
even as he put his 'own life on the hazard of every
charge, so did he insist that the f oeman must do like-
wise. From the first he was either ignored or
minimized, and as his genius still persisted in blazing
high, there were open attempts to destroy him that
only ended when he faced Bragg in his tent at Chicka-
mauga and beat "Him down with words that had the
scourge of whips*

[253]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

"You commenced your cowardly and contemptible
persecution of me soon after the battle of Shiloh," lie
said, Ms menacing eye nailing Bragg to Ms seat.
"You robbed me of my command in Kentucky and
gave it to one of your favorites men that I armed
and equipped. Because I would not fawn upon you
as others did, you drove me into west Tennessee in the
winter with a second brigade I had organized, half
armed and without sufficient ammunition. You did it
to ruin me and my career . . , and now you have
taken these brave men from me.

"I have stood your meanness as long as I intend
to. You have played the part of a damned scoundrel
and are a coward, and if you were any part of a man
I would slap your jaws and force you to resent it. If
you ever again try to interfere with me or cross my
path, it will be at the peril of your life."

However cheaply the southern leaders may have
valued Forrest in the first years, northern generals
made up for the failure by their appreciative curses.

Grant, compelled to abandon his first campaign
against Vicksburg, ignominiously falling back after
months of elaborate preparation, could not suppress
his admiration of the brilliantly effective fashion in
which Forrest destroyed all lines of communication.

Sherman, checkmated at every turn, and aroused
to profane fury by raid after raid, issued orders to
"follow Forrest to the death if it costs ten thousand
lives and breaks the Treasury," the only result being
new disasters.

It was soon after Shiloh that Forrest slipped
across the Tennessee, leading one thousand five hun-
dred wild riders on the first of those raids that were
to make him famous. Beaching Murfreesboro in the
gray of a dawn, Ms favorite hour, he struck the sleep-

[254]

THE GRAY GHOST OF THE SOUTH

ing town like a tornado, capturing General Crittenden
and his staff, and hundreds of prisoners before resist-
ance could form.

Even then he remained outnumbered, but deploy-
ing his troops in such manner as to create an effect
of thousands, he boldly demanded surrender "to pre-
vent the unnecessary effusion of blood. " It was a
phrase supplied him by his adjutant, and Forrest
loved it with an almost childish joy in its bombast.

More than one thousand one hundred Federals
gave up their arms, together with supplies* valued at
five hundred thousand dollars, but while the southern-
ers rejoiced, word came that General Nelson was
dashing down from Nashville with three thousand five
hundred men. Calmly stepping into a wood, so as to
give him free passage, Forrest cut in behind, smashed
at Nashville until Governor Andrew Johnson shook
the heavens with his angry alarm, and the;n evaded
Nelson for a second time, burning bridges, destroying
railroads, and capturing outposts and supplies on his
leisurely retreat.

Again, when Buell fell back to Louisville, Forrest
harried his line of march, skilfully herding him into
position after position where Bragg could have struck
with every certainty of victory, but the opportunities
were not taken.

Later he planned the capture of Nashville, but
Bragg called him off as the attack was about to be
delivered, and even as Forrest chafed, Bragg ordered
him to invade West Tennessee, It was a country thick
with Union troops. His own force was to be two
thousand one hundred men, poorly mounted and half
equipped. But after one bitter, despairing protest,
Forrest clamped his iron jaw and set forth on the
desperate adventure.

[255]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Crossing the Tennessee in a leaky flat boat, lie soon
came into contact with Colonel Eobert Gr. Ingersoll
who probably got his idea that there was no God as
the result of the meeting, and captnred the Colonel,
two guns, any nnmber of rifles, and a very necessary
quantity of supplies. This done, he presented himself
before the city of Jackson and went through all the
motions of preparing for an assault in force.

Having thus given the garrison of ten thousand
soldiers something to arouse and maintain interest, he
slipped away under cover of night leaving a few men
behind to beat drums and blow bugles and proceeded
to capture towns, troops and supplies at his leisure.

Even when the army in Jackson finally woke up,
Forrest merely kept on, raiding clear to the Kentucky
line before deciding upon retreat. All bridges over
the Obion were destroyed, but a swift dart eluded
pursuit, and after an all-night struggle in mud and
icy water fifty men hitched to each gun the river
was crossed.

As they marched, across their front swept a Fed-
eral force, convinced that Forrest would try to escape.
Instead of that he sprang to the attack and won, but in
the very moment of victory two thousand Yankees
crept up and leaped at his back. Even so, he managed
to escape, fought a running fight for eight miles, and
made the river crossing.

For seventeen days he had averaged twenty miles
a day through rain and snow, fighting continually; he
had Mlled and wounded one thousand five hundred and
made as many prisoners, besides capturing millions in
supplies ; more than this, he had prevented reinforce-
ments from going to Eosecrans in Nashville, and
forced Grant to fall back from Vicksburg.

What was sauce for the goose was sauce for the

[256]

THE GRAY GHOST OF THE SOUTH

gander, figured Rosecrans and dashing Colonel Abel
Streight, with two thousand picked men, was told to
ride to Some, Georgia, to destroy arsenals, supply
depots and railroads so that Bragg, in Chattanooga,
would be cut off from all communication with Atlanta
and Virginia.

General Grenville Dodge and seven thousand five
hundred men were assigned to mask the departure, but
Forrest, with his uncanny gift of divination, refused
to be deceived, and after actually forcing poor Dodge
to flounder about helplessly by bewildering thrusts and
feints, rushed in pursuit of Streight at the head of
one thousand two hundred riders.

Night and day they spurred on, careless of roads,
for the fate of Bragg's army quivered in the balance,
and at dawn on April thirtieth their prey was over-
hauled. Four days they fought and clear across
Alabama the battle raged; Streight turning to strike
savagely and then racing on, Forrest hanging to his
heels with hound-like tenacity, food and sleep for-
gotten.

Ambuscade followed ambuscade, charge succeeded
charge, but at last on the third day, hunted Streight
had the right to feel that he had shaken off pursuit.
Burning the one bridge across wide and deep Black
Creek, he waved a mocking hand and sped on for un-
protected Rome.

Standing over six feet, lithe as an Indian, and
dramatically handsome, it was not only men that
adored Nathan Bedford Forrest. Out of the woods
came a country girl Emma Sanson worship in her
young eyes, and blushingly announced that she knew a
place where the creek could not be so very deep. She
had seen cows cross it in summer.

Lifting her up behind him, Forrest rode to the

[257]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

hidden ford, and Ms men, after swimming their horses,
ammunition held high and dry, dragged the guns
across by ropes. Besting at Gadsden, Streight heard
the familiar bay, and fought ten miles before he found
time to draw his sobbing breath.

At sunrise on May third, Forrest came to the Coosa
with only five hundred men. Without chance to get
fresh horses or supplies, for Streight swept clean as
he ran, more than half of the southerners had fallen
by the way, their mounts exhausted. Iron-framed, in-
domitable, Forrest drove his faithful few into the
stream, and an hour later they fed fat on Streight *s
still smoking breakfast.

Eighteen miles from Borne the quarry turned for
a last stand, but Forrest boldly demanded surrender,
after creating his usual impression of superior num-
bers, and although Streight wanted to fight, his dis-
couraged officers forced capitulation, and one thousand
four hundred and sixty-sis men laid down their arms,
an advance detachment of three hundred surrendering
later.

Now the color and glow of Forrest begins to be
transferred to a larger canvas. In September of this
year of 1863, Bosecrans moved against Bragg, and as
the southern general gave way, evacuating Chatta-
nooga, Forrest covered the retreat. Against the
cautious strategy of the two West Pointers, his daring
flamed in bold relief, for even as Bosecrans credited
him with six times the cavalry that he really had,
Bragg held back from spectacular thrusts that Forrest
urged. So events moved forward to the slaughter-
house of Chickamauga, where the southern charge cut
Bosecrans' larger army in half, only lion-like Thomas
averting complete disaster by his granite stand on the
left.

[258]

THE GRAY GHOST OF THE SOUTH

"Another Bull Bun," cried Charles A, Dana, and
from a mountain pine the morning after, Forrest saw
the wild, disorderly retreat into Chattanooga, and
begged Bragg to order pursuit. Two days of inaction
enabled Eosecrans to restore order, and out of his
bitterness, Forrest indulged in such open criticism
that Bragg found occasion to relieve him of his com-
mand. It was then that he cursed his persecutor to his
face, but better than any one he knew the power of the
"West Point ring," and turned away without other
thought than to do his duty.

By now, however, Jefferson Davis had come to
realize that war was more than a mere matter of books,
and suddenly Forrest found himself made a major-
general and transferred to North Mississippi with
authority to raise a new command.

No sooner had he gathered a nucleus than Sherman
launched the first of those devastating sweeps that
were to make him the scourge of the South. He him-
self was to move from Vicksburg with twenty thousand
men, while General Sooy Smith, with seven thousand
cavalry, was to come down from Memphis, the two
forces uniting at Meridian.

Forrest, instantly divining the plan, realized the
impossibility of checking Sherman, and turned atten-
tion to Smith, busily engaged in laying the country
waste as he marched. What did it matter that he had
but two thousand five hundred ragged troopers to hurl
against a picked command that outnumbered him three
to one?

At dawn on February twentieth he struck the
astounded Smith with all the force of a battering ram,
bewildering him with flank attacks and smashing him
with frontal assaults that invariably foimd the weak-
est places in the line.

[259]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

For three days the running battle raged, Smith and
his demoralized troops surrendering position after
position, but on the twenty-second he managed to form
his men in what seemed an impregnable line. Charge
after charge was beaten back, and Forrest was called
upon to endure the anguish of seeing his young brother
fall with a bullet through the throat. His cry of pain
rang high above the noise of conflict (there was a
moment when he cradled the lifeless body in his arms
and kissed the cold lips of his Benjamin) and then he
leaped to the attack.

His horse was shot under him, another fell all
bullet-riddled, but straight through the Federal army
he cut a bloody way, and sunset saw Smith's army in
panic-stricken retreat to Memphis.

Even as Sherman searched his soul for fresh ex-
pletives with which to batter poor Sooy Smith, For-
rest struck again, bottling powerful garrisons by
brilliant feints, dashing clear into Kentucky, and
winding up the daring raid by the capture of Fort
Pillow.

Then it was that the North flamed to fury, brand-
ing Forrest as an Attila, denouncing Fort Pillow as a
massacre, and it was long before the facts in the case
rescued his reputation from the weight of lies*

The fort had been called upon to surrender, but
the commanders were confident of the strength of
their intrenchments, and also expected aid from the
gunboats. The attack carried the walls, the officers
fled, such as were not killed, and with no one in author-
ity to fly a white flag or lower the colors, there was a
slaughter, grim and terrible, until the halyards of the
flag were cut by one of Forrest's own men.

May came the gloomy May that saw Grant and
Lee locked in a death struggle in the Wilderness and

[260]

THE GRAY GHOST OF TEE SOUTH

Sherman, under orders to thrust at the heart of the
South, left Chattanooga with one hundred thousand
men for his march through Georgia.

"That devil Forrest" had to be considered, how-
ever; and by way of protecting his rear, General
Sturgis and eight thousand men were commanded to
leave Memphis and call no halt until they met and
destroyed the southern chieftain and his "phantom
cavalry." Sherman knew that Forrest could not
possibly gather more than four thousand, but the ex-
perience of Sooy Smith should have taught him that
two to one was not odds enough. This was proved at
Brice's Crossroads on June tenth, for while Forrest
started the battle with only two thousand men, he
whipped Sturgis into headlong flight.

All night he led a bloody pursuit, falling from his
horse from sheer exhaustion at dawn, but the fruits
of his tremendous exertions were two thousand six
hundred and twelve Federals killed, wounded and
captured, and arms and supplies enough to equip his
entire force.

Generals A. J, Smith and J. A. Mower were now
selected to crush Forrest "without fail" for not only
was Sherman's rear to be protected, but thousands of
soldiers were locked in cities and towns, afraid to
move beyond the safe shelter of the walls.

"Wounded, covered from head to foot with boils,
Forrest faced the new army of fifteen thousand with
undaunted courage, but over his protest, General S. D.
Lee gave battle at Harrisburg, and suffered a decisive
defeat, leaving Smith and Mower free to ravage*

It was in this hour of black despair that Forrest
conceived the idea of a raid on Memphis, and with
him it was ever a case of action following on the heels
of thought.

[261]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Leading two thousand men, although scarcely able
to sit in Ms saddle, he rode away on the daring
expedition in which even his own men did not
believe building bridges with grape-vines and cabin
fl oors an d a t three o'clock on the morning of August
twenty-first, reached the very center of Memphis and
threw out Ms net for the three generals in command.
All managed to escape by hasty leaps through bedroom
windows, and as dawn saw the Federals massing in
overwhelming strength, Forrest fell back with some
six hundred prisoners.

His object was fully aeMeved, for Smith's army
hurriedly returned to Memphis, and even irate Sher-
man must have laughed at Sturgis's mot: "They re-
moved me because I couldn't keep Forrest out of West
Tennessee," the censured general remarked with a
chuckle, "but my successor couldn't keep him out of
Ms bedroom."

These things done, the indefatigable leader raced
after Sherman with purpose to harass his rear, strik-
ing Ms first blow at Athens, Alabama. The town had
a garrison of two thousand, strongly fortified, but
Forrest forced surrender by Ms usual trick, making
his army seem five times its size.

On he dashed, cutting supply and communication
lines, capturing blockhouses and towns until the raging
Sherman hurled thirty thousand men against him from
various quarters. Fighting when no more than six or
seven thousand were in front of him, and retreating
when the odds were too heavy, Forrest wound a way
through the crowding pursuers, and crossed to the
south bank of the Tennessee almost under their eyes.
Two weeks later he shot north to Johnsonville, Ten-
nessee, a great supply depot, destroyed some six
millions in property and actually captured enough
gunboats and transporters to set up a small navy.

[262]

TEE GEAY GHOST OF THE SOUTH

From every quarter, however, came news black
with the doom of approaching disaster. In Virginia,
Lee was weakening rapidly tinder the hammer blows
of Grant, and Hood, crushed by Sherman, was retreat-
ing into Middle Tennessee, desperately planning the
capture of Nashville, Blunder matched blunder.

Hood's one chance was to have crossed the Ohio for
a swift dash through the North; Thomas, with an
army twice as large as Hood's, should have given
battle. Instead of that, he let weeks pass, and it was
only when Grant threatened his removal that he at-
tacked, battering the Confederate host into fragments.

In this dark hour of demoralization and despair,
when utter annihilation seemed inevitable, it was not
to some fellow West Pointer that Hood turned, but to
the humble blacksmith's illiterate son, asking Tiim to
safeguard the retreat.

Forrest accepted, and were his record barren of
all other military achievement, the manner in which
he discharged his responsibility would have entitled
him to a place among the great soldiers of all time.
With a force of five thousand, only three thousand
mounted, he held off the pursuit of ten thousand
cavalry and thirty thousand infantry for thirty-five
terrible days fighting, retreating, turning to fight
again tireless, indomitable, brilliantly resourceful,
and holding fast until the last of Hood's flying army
crossed the Tennessee into the safety of Alabama.
During the struggle he killed and captured a number
equal to his own command and armed and fed his men
at the expense of the enemy.

Out of it came a commission as lieutenant-general,
and full command of all the cavalry in Alabama,
Mississippi and East Louisiana great honors but
empty, for all about him were hopelessness and dis-
integration.

[263]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

"With all of Ms old fire, however, Forrest turned
fugitives into defenders, racing from point to point
until Sherman, far away in the Carolinas, made angry
inquiry as to why "the devil " wasn't hunted down
and killed. When General Wilson set out in March,
riding deep into Alabama at the head of twelve thou-
sand cavalry, superbly mounted and equipped, it
seemed certain that Sherman's pious wish was to be
gratified. Not all of Forrest's wild daring could avail
against such overwhelming odds, and each new day
saw him beaten back, until at last his force dwindled
to one thousand five hundred ragged, starving men.

Time after time his capture seemed certain. Once
he was cut off from his command and entirely sur-
rounded, his sword broken and the hammer hacked
from his pistol, but he lifted his wounded horse over
a wagon and escaped. Wilson was confident that he
had him at Selma, but, when arptmunition was ex-
hausted, Forrest found a gap in the ring of besiegers
and slipped away, beaten but free.

Even as he prepared to resume the struggle, word
came of Appomattox, followed by reports of the fall
of Mobile and Johnston's surrender and when a
Federal commissioner sent word on May ninth that
he was empowered to execute paroles, Forrest bowed
his head and sheathed his sword.

No man had been more furious and implacable in
war, yet not even Eobert E. Lee was nobler in his
acceptance of defeat, or in his call for a peace un-
poisoned by bitterness and hate. Addressing his
soldiers for the last time Forrest said, "I have never,
on the field of battle, sent you where I was unwilling
to go myself, nor would I now advise you to a course
which I felt myself unwilling to pursue. You have
been good soldiers; you can be good citizens. "

[264]

xxn

BOYAL BABES IN THE WOOD

Itf THE days when the nineteenth century was still
young, a wretched Kentucky cabin rang to the squall
of a new-born boy; in Oaxaca a Zapoteco Indian
trudged from the fields to see the son his squaw had
spawned; and a glittering European capital shouted
its joy over the coming of a man child to the royal
house. From the very hour of birth, Fate began to
weave together the threads of those babes' lives
weaving with such still and pains that only death
would have the power to disentangle.

The year of 1861 found them grown and saw the
stage set for their joint drama. Abraham Lincoln, the
rail splitter risen to be president of the United States,
sat in the White House and sickened at the sound of
chariots rushing to war; Benito Juarez, the Indian
herder, ruled in bloody Mexico, fighting indomitably
to bring peace and order to his distracted country;
and in a lovely villa on the headlands above Trieste,
Ferdinand Maximilian, Archduke of Austria, lorded it
ict pompous fashion as governor of Venetia, a post
tossed him by his brother, the Emperor Franz Josel

With the United States engaged in a deadly civil
war, powerless to enforce the Monroe Doctrine,
France, Spain and Great Britain, hoping to compel the
payment of certain claims, sent their warships to
Mexico, and landed troops at Vera Cruz with secret
purpose to take possession of the land.

The North still staggered from the shock of Bull

[265]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Run, and harassed Lincoln could only file a written
protest against the aggression, nor was Juarez himself
able to offer armed resistance, for he faced an empty
treasury and the treachery and intrigues of the
wealthy class.

A survey of the situation, however, convinced
Spain and England that an attempt to enforce their
claims would mean a long and costly war, and being
without stomach for such a struggle, they accepted the
settlements offered by Juarez and withdrew.

Not so with Louis Napoleon, that master adven-
turer whose craft had made him emperor of the
French. Drunk with dreams of world dominion, ob-
sessed by the imperialistic tradition inherited from
his tremendous uncle, Napoleon III had already em-
broiled his country in Italy, China and Algeria, and
now he planned a foothold in Mexico that would
enable him to challenge the growth of the United
States.

As he explained to General Forey, "Our military
honor, the interests of our policy, all impose upon us
the duty of marching upon the capital of Mexico,
there to raise our flag audaciously, and establish a
monarchy." The United States, locked in fratricidal
strife, was not to be feared, and the Archduke Max-
imilian, selected to occupy the Mexican throne, pos-
sessed the double advantage of being a fool and the
brother of the Emperor of Austria.

Contemptuously ignoring Lincoln's protests, Louis
Napoleon ordered his legions to advance, and on May
5, 1862, invaders and patriots fought the battle of
Puebla. "Well may Mexico celebrate the Cinco de
Mayo as a national holiday, for when night came after
a day of furious struggle, the raw levies of Juarez had
beaten back the veterans of France.

[266]

ROYAL BABES IN THE WOOD

Taught nothing, the stubborn Emperor hurried
new thousands across the sea. Under this overwhelm-
ing attack the citizen troops gave way and Juarez fled
the capital before the onward rush of triumphant
Forey. At once a Council of Notables was formed,
and in the name of the Mexican people Ferdinand
Maximilian was humbly begged to cross the seas and
accept a crown.

Left to himself, it is to be doubted whether the
indolent Archduke would have quit the lazy peace of
Miramar, where life presented no sterner problems
than the care of his golden whiskers, with now and
then the perpetration of a sonnet. Moving and think-
ing with equal heaviness, the dull routine of his petty
court sufficed him, but Ms wife was cast in different
mold. Only daughter of Leopold of Belgium, and as
ambitious as beautiful, the young Archduchess Char-
lotte hated the humdrum of Venetia, and writhed
under the humiliating supervision of Franz Josef*
That hard mean soul had never liked his more pic-
torial brother, and found infinite pleasure in belittling
him.

Months were devoted to dramatics, the Archduke
refusing to accept the throne until convinced that the
Mexican people really wanted him, and the French
gravely going through the motions of a popular elec-
tion, and it was not until the spring of 1864 that Max-
imiliano and Carlota, as they now called themselves,
gave their royal consent to be Emperor and Empress.

A visit to Naples, a ceremonious pilgrimage to the
Vatican, where the Pope blessed them, and then a
voyage over summer seas to the scene of tragedy.
Ecstatic receptions were skilfully stage-managed by
the French, and as a climax the two Babes in the
Wood stood in the great cathedral built by the con-

[267]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

'querors, and bowed their heads to receive diadems
from the hands of lordly prelates.

The one excuse for intervention was Mexico's
inability to pay her debts, yet even before Maximilian
ascended the throne Louis Napoleon forced him to
recognize a lump obligation of fifty-six million dollars,
and yearly payments aggregating six million dollars,
representing French military expenses.

In addition to this, the Emperor was voted
an annual salary of one Trillion five hundred thousand
dollars, while Carlota received one hundred and
ninety-two thousand dollars a year as pin money.
Millions were also lavished on palace furnishings, gold
plate, gorgeous equipages and court costumes ; foreign
favorites, skilled in the art of entertainment, filled the
days and nights with pageants and festivals, and song
and laughter drowned the cries of hate and rebellion.

Frangois Achille Bazaine, who had succeeded
Forey in command of the French forces, struck fiercely
to crush the spirit of the people, and like destroying
angels his Turcos, Nubians and Spahis swept the un-
happy land, killing and burning with the savagery
learned in China and Algiers.

Benito Juarez, carrying his forlorn pretense of
government, fell back from city to city, from the plain
to the mountain, from the Sierras into the desert
hunted like a wild beast yet ever courageous and
undismayed. General after general was either de-
feated or else turned traitor, and the land seemed to
gasp its last breath under Bazaine ? s iron heel. But
out of the very air the great Indian gathered men for
new armies and filled their souls with his own fierce
resolve. Day by day, however, his situation grew
more desperate, and at last he found himself in Paso
del Norte, his back against the Texas border, Ms re-
sources at the end.

[268]

ROYAL BABES IN THE WOOD

Even as Maximilian pompously announced the end
of rebellion and set himself to the pleasant task of
devising new medals for Ms victorious Defenders of
the Faith, there came the news of Lee's surrender at
Appomattox. At once the flimsy house of cards began
to tremble to its fall.

From the first the people of the United States had
raged against the overthrow of the Mexican Republic,
and now that civil war at an end, the whole country
joined in clamor for the expulsion of the French and
the dethronement of Maximilian.

General U. S. Grant, throwing his nsnal reserve to
one side, made himself the voice of popular bitterness.
Declaring that Louis Napoleon's monarchical estab-
lishment constituted an act of war against the United
States, he urged Lincoln to rush troops across the Eio
Grande, and even despatched General Schofield to
Texas with instructions to raise a volunteer army of
sixty thousand for cooperation with Juarez.

Confederates were to be enlisted, as well as Union
men, for it was Grant's thought that the sight of North
and South fighting again under the Stars and Stripes
against a foreign foe would do much to heal the
wounds of the Civil "War. General Lew Wallace, rush-
ing to New York with an imposing Mexican com-
mander, also called for recruits to fight under the
banner of Juarez, and the whole country blazed with
enthusiasm for the heroic Indian.

Lincoln's assassination brought Andrew Johnson
to the Presidency, and with Johnson in the "White
House, control of foreign affairs passed into the hands
of lean William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

While sharing Grant's feeling that Maximilian's
empire menaced New World democracy, far-visioned
Seward saw what the simple soldier did not see.

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SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Nothing would be easier than to raise an army of vet-
erans for service across the Eio Grande, but when its
mission had been discharged, where was the guarantee
that these reckless soldiers would return? Might it
not be that Mexico would find that she had merely ex-
changed French masters for American masters? In
any event, what was the use of running the risk of
force when the same result could be achieved by diplo-
matic pressure?

Cleverly repressing Grant, Schofield and Wallace,
astute Seward launched the first of a series of
notes, each more peremptory than the last, warning
Louis Napoleon that French troops must be with-
drawn at once under threat of America's "immediate
antagonism. " The war that France waged in Mexico
was one of "political intervention dangerous to the
United States and to republican institutions in the
American hemisphere/' and must be stopped. At the
same time, Austria was informed that any further
despatch of soldiers to Mexico would be considered as
an unfriendly act that might well lead to open hos-
tilities.

It was not only the attitude of the United States
that chilled the arrogance of Napoleon III, By vari-
ous blunders he had lost the friendship of Groat
Britain, Eussia, Prussia and Italy, and ringed about
with enemies at home, he realized his inability to pur-
sue the Mexican venture any further. In January,
1866, therefore, he informed Seward that withdrawal
orders would be issued.

It was news that put an end to laughter in high
Chapultepec where Maximilian and Carlota lolled the
sunny days away. As Bazaine called in his men,
courage returned to the Mexican people, and Juarez
marched forward at the head of victorious armies.

[270]

ROYAL BABES IN THE WOOD

Piteously tlie royal dreamers begged delay, and
when Bazaine shook Ms head Carlota took ship for
France, humbling her proud soul to kneel before Louis
Napoleon. The interview resulted in nothing but
humiliation for the unhappy Empress, and as she hur-
ried from court to court, making vain appeal to Franz
Josef and the Pope, madness came upon her, and it
was a raving maniac that physicians took to Brussels.

Having been pressed hard by Seward, who had
insisted upon a fixed date for withdrawal, Louis
Napoleon was at last forced to begin evacuation.
Secret orders bade General Bazaine bring about the
abdication of Maximilian by way of constituting a
claim upon the gratitude of Juarez, and under the
compulsion of the general ? s stronger will, the Emperor
yielded assent. Slipping out of the city that he had
entered with such pomp only two short years before,
the wretched Hapsburg fled for Vera Cruz to board a
waiting Austrian man-o'-war.

Like so many wolves they followed him prelates
fearful of the vengeance of Juarez, generals who had
accepted French gold, and all the host of renegades
begging him not to desert his post, pledging men and
money. The church offered millions; and cunning
Abbe Fischer talked grandly of an army of fifty thou-
sand officered by such valientes as Tomas Mejia, the
Indian Napoleon, dashing Miguel Miramon, and
bloody Leonardo Marquez.

Bazaine, rushing to Orizaba, proved that no such
army could be raised, but the Emperor refused to be
undeceived, A flight to Europe meant that he would
have to beg refuge of his royal brother, living as a
despised dependent on Franz Josef's niggard bounty,
and his heart loathed the thought. Dismissing Ba-
zaine, Maximilian returned to the capital, announcing

[271]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

that lie would "continue at the helm until the last
drop of my blood be shed in defense of the nation."

It was as Bazaine had said. "Within a month from
the sailing of the last detachment of French troops,
Miramon and Mejia were crnshingly defeated and
penned in the provincial city of Queretaro. In his de-
spair the Emperor sent for General Jo Shelby and
other Confederate commanders who had taken refuge
in Mexico, and said that he was now ready to accept
their former offer to raise an army of fifty thousand.

It was too late, they told him sadly, pointing out
that his cause was lost and that the problem was to
save Ms life. They volunteered their swords to cut a
way to Vera Cruz for him, but seeing his doom at last,
the unhappy man called upon his pride for courage
to meet it boldly.

From every corner of the country swarmed the men
of Juarez, and no longer daring to trust the people of
the capital the Emperor gathered the remnants of his
following and awaited his fate with Miramon and
Mejia in Queretaro. There, with only eight thousand
renegades about him, he gave over to despair, and
paralyzed the initiative of his generals by gloomy
indecision. They had genius as well as bravery, but
Maximilian held them in check, sitting idle until
Mariano Escobedo brought up twenty-five thousand
patriots for the siege and tightened a band of steel
about the town.

At the end of three months the garrison had been
reduced to five thousand by battle, famine and disease.
Marquez had been sent to the City of Mexico for
reinforcements, and did not return for the very good
reason that he was blackmailing and looting in prep-
aration for secret flight. Perched on the Hill of the
Bells, either brooding or else filling his diary with

[272]

ROYAL BABES IN THE WOOD

pages of self-pity, the Emperor dreamed the wretched
days away. At last Miramon and Mejia came to him
and announced that the one remaining chance was to
slip away and gamble on reaching Yera Cruz by secret
mountain paths.

On May fourteenth, the night before the attempt,
Miguel Lopez crept over the city walls, and in the
tent of Escobedo arranged the terms of betrayal.
Using his authority as officer of the day, Lopez opened
the gates, and brought in Escobedo ? s men, pretending
that they were relief troops.

By half past three every important point was in
possession of the Eepublicans, and a clamor of church
bells suddenly shattered the night. Maximilian,
pulled from his couch by a faithful aid, rallied such
men as were at hand and ran through the shadowy
streets calling for all loyal troops to join him on the
Hill of the Bells. As the sun came above the moun-
tains, he saw that only a few hundred were with him,
while the town below ran black with Escobedo ? s
thousands.

Mejia, the lion-hearted little Indian, urged a last
desperate charge, preferring death to capture, but the
Emperor clung to the belief that even Mexicans would
not dare to lay impious hands upon the sacred body
of a Hapsburg. Eaising a white flag, he handed over
his sword with a superb gesture, saying, "If any-
body's life is required, take mine."

An order from Juarez, granting the prisoners a
formal trial, strengthened Maximilian's conviction
that he would not be killed, and as he lay in the old
convent of the Capuchines with Miramon and Mejia,
dreams of lovely Miramar filled his mind.

The Princess Salm-Salm, American wife of an
Austrian officer, saw Juarez personally, and came back

[273]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

with word that mercy was not to be expected, but still
the Emperor refused to believe that his life was in
danger. Three times the indomitable woman, a circus
rider in her youth, arranged escapes, but the proud
Hapsburg refused the first chance, and the two last
attempts were brought to naught by betrayal.

Only when Maximilian and his two generals faced
the court-martial in the gloomy Teatro Iturbide did
he realize that death had him by the throat. The
judges sat like graven images as he pleaded, every
defense was contemptuously swept aside, and at mid-
night on June fourteenth the three were found guilty
of having attempted to overthrow the republican gov-
ernment of Mexico by force of arms. Escobedo would
have shot them on the sixteenth, but Juarez stayed the
execution for three days, a length of time that per-
mitted every civilized nation of the world to file
appeals or protests, even Seward joining in the plea
for mercy.

It was in vain. As Juarez pointed out, "For fifty
years Mexico has used a system of pardon and
leniency with a resultant anarchy at home and loss of
prestige abroad," and as he looked over a land laid
waste by the crime of foreign intervention his Indian
face set in still sterner lines.

Only one gracious act softened the harsh aspects of
tragedy. They told Maximilian that his wife was
dead, that mad Carlota's sufferings were at an end,
and he took the marriage ring from his hand, kissed
it, and asked that it be sent to his royal mother.

"Whatever his faults, courage and generosity of
spirit were not among his lacks. The fate of his gen-
erals distressed him more than his own, and a last
thought was the arrangement for the transportation
of Miramon's widow to Vienna. He planned a similar

[274]

ROYAL BABES IN TEE WOOD

refnge for the son of Mejia, but in times past the little
Indian had spared the life of Escobedo, and to this
general he now confided his boy, desiring to have him
remain a Mexican.

At sunrise on the morning of June nineteenth, three
carriages left the convent of the Capuchines, each
prisoner accompanied by a priest. Through long lines
of soldiers the melancholy cortege wound its way, com-
ing to a stop on the Hill of the Bells, the spot most
loved by Maximilian and where he had made his last
stand.

Bravely enough the condemned men alighted, and
as they ranged themselves against a crumbling stone
wall, the Emperor changed places with Miramon, say-
ing, " Brave men are respected by sovereigns. Permit
me to give you the place of honor/'

As they faced the firing squad Maximilian and
Miramon made brief statements, but Indian Mejia
spoke no word. One look around, a sad look, for in
all that vast throng was not one familiar face, and
then in a firm voice, his right hand pressed to his
heart, the Emperor called "Fire I" Four bullets
pierced his body, but still he moved, and two soldiers,
stepping forward, shot again, their balls ripping his
breast and abdomen.

So ended the Old World's dream of empire in the
New.

[275]

XXIII

THE TAILOR EBOM TENNESSEE

To BISE from a tailor's bench to the Presidency of
the United States ; in the hour of pride and triumph
to feel suddenly the clutch of ruin ; for dreadful weeks
to hang above a pit of shame and black disgrace such
swift and malignant alternations of fortune might well
have crushed the strongest. Yet seven years from the
time he left the White House, as much discredited as
though the High Court of Impeachment had found him
guilty, Andrew Johnson stood in the Senate, a duly-
elected member, fronting his ancient enemies with
unbowed crest. The hand of Death was on him, Ms
Indian face gray with a mortal malady, but by sheer
force of will he held to his bitter purpose, only
crumpling when his venom had spent itself.

Indomitable man 1 Unhappy, lonely man, walking
the world from birth to death with only his hates to
keep him company. Born sordidly, apprenticed to a
tailor before he had the chance to get one single day
of schooling, during the whole of his youth he looked
at life through the prison bars of ignorance and
poverty.

He knew himself to have ability, and a fierce deter-
mination to succeed marked him from the first, but
his ambition was not more passionate than his curdling
envies. Sitting cross-legged, doggedly teaching him-
self to read as he cut and sewed, he flamed with rage
against the slim, graceful patricians that passed his

[276]

THE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE

shop, cursing them as " aristocrats," blaming them for
Ms misery, and aching for the day when he might drag
them down ; make them suffer what he had suffered.

In 1826, at the age of eighteen, he married an
educated woman who taught him writing and arith-
metic at night, and the same year saw him taking an
interest in politics.

East Tennessee 'was the "poor white" section of
the state, and the people, delighting in his furious
harangues, made him alderman, mayor, member of
the legislature, and Congressmen in rapid succession.
An effective orator after the model of the French
[Revolutionists, speaking as Danton, Murat and St.
Just must have spoken, his fame spread as a "cham-
pion of the downtrodden masses/' and his savage
demagogery amply deserved Isham Harris's sneer,
"If Johnson were a snake, he would lie in the grass
and Mte the heels of rich men's children."

On and on swept the triumphant tailor, trampling
the gentry beneath his feet, and after two terms of
governor he proved his political control of the state
by winning election to the Senate.

His talents, however, were not fitted for the
national arena, and he was cutting a very poor sena-
torial figure when the war came to give him an unique
and spectacular chance for glory.

Like Lincoln, that other son of poverty, Johnson
had an almost mystical love for the Union, and he
cried out against secession with all the strength of Ms
passionate soul. Back to Tennessee he raced at the
risk of his life, and when an overwhelming southern
sentiment carried his state into the Confederacy, he
returned to "Washington and grimly held his seat, the
only one of twenty-two senators to reject the call of
the South.

[277]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Patriotism, Ms one pure and unselfish emotion,
wasted the dark soul clean of its sullen angers for
a while, and in several speeches he came close to great-
ness. Arguing powerfully that the war was waged to
preserve the Union, and not against any section or
institution, he held the border states to loyalty, and
gave Lincoln a unified public support that had been
lacking.

As Oliver P. Morton, the great war governor of
Indiana, declared, "perhaps no man in Congress
exerted the same influence on the public sentiment of
the North at the beginning of the war as Andrew
Johnson/' His words, like some great flame, swept
from heart to heart, burning doubts and fears away.

In March of 1862, when Grant's victories had com-
pelled the evacuation of Nashville, and part of
Tennessee was free from Confederate control, Lincoln
sent for Johnson and asked him to take the military
governorship of the state. It was a post of hardship
and extreme danger, for not only was assassination to
be feared, but a turn in the fortunes of war might well
throw Johnson into the power of those that despised
him as a traitor.

His bull neck arched, his granite jaw protruded,
the new governor entered Tennessee on the winds of
wrath. Disdaining the conciliatory policy that was
urged, he filled the jails with southern sympathizers,
suppressed every paper that did not fawn, and even
exiled ministers of the gospel, cursing them for hypo-
crites that wore "the livery of heaven to serve the
devil in."

Friend felt the iron of his imperious will as well as
foe. When General Buell refused to join in his savage
persecutions, he accused him of cowardice and south-
ern leanings, and hounded him out of Ms command.

[278]

TEE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE

" Treason must be made odious, and traitors punished
and impoverished" was a slogan that he never tired of
shouting, and with all of his old malignant joy he led
a continuous hue and cry.

"Damn the niggers," he growled to a visitor who
mentioned emancipation. "I'm fighting those traitor-
ous aristocrats, the masters."

Lincoln's amnesty proclamation disgusted him as
an exhibition of weakness, and with characteristic
arrogance he brushed it aside as far as Tennessee was
concerned. Increasingly lonely, for even loyal Union-
ists were repelled by his savagery, he went his grim
way without faltering, admirable only in his courage-

When the Confederates came close to Nashville,
and timid souls urged evacuation, Johnson ordered
resistance until the last man should fall, saying, "Any
one who talks of surrender I will shoot."

Such stories as these, traveling north, made him a
popular hero, and together with Lincoln's friendship,
and the Bepublicans' desire to gain the votes of the
"War Democrats, and to flatter the border states that
had remained loyal to the Union, gained him the
Bepublican nomination for the Vice-Presidency in
1864.

Drunk on the day of his inauguration, his maudlin
speech disgusted and appalled, but the painful impres-
sion was quickly wiped out, for not even Thaddeus
Stevens was more of an adept at hymns of hate. No
sooner had Eichmond fallen than he was crying, "The
halter for influential traitors; hang the leaders!"
And he stood with Sumner in denouncing Lincoln's
policy of mercy as a criminal blunder.

They loved Johnson then Wade, Sumner, Stevens,
and the rest of the radicals arid when he took the
oath after the President's death, this group ran to

[279]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

him as though he were a savior, Ben Wade shouting,
"Johnson, we have faith in you. By the gods, there
will be no trouble now in running the government."

By word and deed he confirmed them in their en-
thusiasm. Day after day he screamed vengeance
against the prostrate South, repeating his stock
phrases: " Treason is a crime and must be pun-
ished ;" " Treason must be made odious ;" "What may
be mercy to the individual is cruelty to the state. "

Indecently, dishonestly, he tried to prove that
Jefferson Davis had "incited, concerted, and pro-
cured' ' the assassination of Lincoln, offered one hun-
dred thousand dollars' reward for his capture, and had
him treated as a common criminal after arrest* In
open defiance of the terms of surrender, he sought to
have Lee and his generals indicted for treason, and
Grant's threat of resignation was the one thing that
held him back

Lincoln's two amnesty proclamations were rudely
set aside, and issuing one of his own, Johnson excluded
fourteen specified classes. In these classes wore all
agents and officials of the Confederate Government, all
army officers above the rank of colonel, and "all per-
sons who have voluntarily participated in said re-
bellion the estimated value of whose taxable property
is over twenty thousand dollars."

This was a thought of his own a last terrible
thrust at the "aristocrats," dooming them to con-
tinued disfranchisement, and putting them lower than
their former slaves. Small wonder that Stevens,
Wade and Sumner hailed him as a Daniel come to
judgment. Yet even as they applauded, a change came
over Andrew Johnson as vast as that which befell Saul
of Tarsus on the road to Damascus.

EL Seward, the Secretary of State, eat at
* [280]

THE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE

his right hand even as he had sat at Lincoln's. If any
man ever had an excuse for hate it was Seward, for
the attempt to assassinate him had killed his invalid
wife and made a maniac of his daughter. Yet with
unyielding tenacity he held to Lincoln's policy of
reconciliation. Clearly, boldly, he made Johnson see
the evil consequences of revenge, and urged him to
adopt the Lincoln theory that the southern states had
never been out of the Union, and that the thing to do
was to bring them back to "the proper practical
relation" as soon as possible.

Grant, another man that Johnson loved and trusted,
also inclined to this view, and under the influence of
these two counselors, the President turned away from
his gloomy hates, and set himself to healing the
Union's gaping wounds.

Following the example set by Lincoln in the
reorganization of Louisiana, he established civil gov-
ernment in the seceded states, and whon Congress met
in December, senators and representatives were on
hand from all of them, asking admission.

High flamed the wrath of Sumnor, Wade and
Stevens. What they wanted was to have the South
treated as a conquered province, not only to satisfy
their passion for revenge, but because the admission
of Democrats, as Stevens frankly admitted, menaced
the "perpetual ascendancy " of the Bepublican party.

Even as they had opposed and defeated Lincoln,
so did the radicals now unite, and after rejecting the
South ? s representatives, served notice upon the Presi-
dent that henceforth he would do well to keep his
hands off the business of reconstruction.

Whatever doubts Andrew Johnson may have had
as to the wisdom of Ms course were removed by the
action of Congress, Always imperious and arrogant,

[281]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

resenting opposition as a personal insult, he accepted
the challenge, and squared for battle with his teeth
bared and fists clenched.

Lincoln might have used his humor and knowledge
of human nature to reach some agreement, but the
burly Tennesseean was ever one who loathed any sug-
gestion of compromise. Congress had dared to
attempt the usurpation of his presidential preroga-
tives, and by the Eternal God, he would fight them to
the death!

Two nights later, addressing a motley crowd that
surged under the White House windows, he gave free
rein to his rage, and bellowed denunciations of the
traitors who were trying to wreck the Constitution and
destroy free institutions. "Name them!' 7 called a
voice, and straightway Johnson answered, "Sumnor,
Stevens and Phillips/'

In equal anger, Congress overturned the precedent
of years and commenced the grim business of passing
laws over the President's veto. A congressional elec-
tion was to be held in November, and remembering
the ease with which he had swayed the hill people of
Tennessee to his will, Johnson resolved to make a
direct appeal to the voters, and started off on what he
termed "a swing around the circle."

It was a journey through Bedlam. Disorderly
crowds jeered and hooted their Chief Executive as
though he were a candidate for constable ; and his hot
temper, invariably getting out of hand, led him into
extravagances of insult and denunciation.

The sentiment of the country had not supported
Sumner and Stevens, but Johnson's disorderly pro-
gress from city to city worked a change, and when
Congress met again in December, the radicals had an
overwhelming majority in Senate and House*

[282]

TEE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE

Contemptuously sweeping aside the state govern-
ments formed by the President, a brand-new Recon-
struction Act organized the South into five military
districts, disfranchised virtually every white, and gave
the vote to the negroes without qualification of any
kind. Johnson disapproved the Act, pointing out its
utter unconstitutionality, but it was re-passed over his
veto, and down upon the helpless South descended the
army of "carpetbaggers," more terrible than any
locust plague.

The next step was a bill that stripped the President
of all power over the army and its officers, and General
Grant, put in complete authority with responsibility
to Congress only, was explicitly ordered not to heed
or obey the commands of Johnson. In the same breath
a Tenure of Office Act was passed that denied the right
of the President to remove any official, even a Cabinet
member, without the consent of the Senate. There
was no question as to the lawlessness of the measure,
and even Stanton joined with Seward in framing and
supporting the veto measure.

As usual, however, it was passed over his veto,
and as an incident of the struggle, Johnson learned
that Stanton was, and had been, the secret agent of
the congressional group, sitting in the Cabinet only to
spy and report.

The President had never liked Stanton, doubtless
because the two were so much alike in their arrogance
and egotism, and now he demanded the Secretary of
^War^s instant resignation, suspending him when it
was refused, and putting General Grant in the office.
Congress, convening in December, ruled that the
suspension was without justification, and promptly
restored Stanton to his place, Grant surrendering
possession on the instant.

[283]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

All that had gone before was nothing to the explo-
sion of rage that now shook the White House. His
wrinkled face like a glowing coal, Johnson branded the
Man of Appomattox as one false to his faith and to his
word, insisting that he had promised to hold the office
or else give time for the appointment of a successor,
so that Stanton would be put in the position of having
to seek reinstatement through the courts, thus bring-
ing up the question of the law's constitutionality.

G-rant denied giving any such pledge, although ad-
mitting that "the President might have understood
me the way he did," but the raging Johnson repeated
his charge of dishonor, supported by the signed state-
ments of five Cabinet members, and in bitter phrase
accused Grant of having traded his principles for the
Eepublican nomination.

Defying the Senate, the President discharged
Stanton and appointed General Lorenzo Thomas as
Secretary of War ad interim. But Stanton barricaded
himself in his office, and the House, under the leader-
ship of Thaddeus Stevens, voted resolutions of im-
peachment. Of the eleven articles, eight dealt with
Stanton >s removal, treating it as an unconstitutional
act, and the others centered around the charge that
Johnson, "unmindful of the high duties of his office,
and the dignities and proprieties thereof ... did at-
tempt to bring into disgrace, ridicule, hatred, contempt
and reproach the Congress of the United States."

As the Senate resolved itself into a Court of High
Impeachment, with Chief Justice Salmon P. Chaso
as the presiding officer, more hung in the balance than
the mere fate of Andrew Johnson. It was the integrity
of the Government of the United States that was at
stake, for if impeachment were sustained, it meant the
elimination of the executive branch as a coordinate

[284]

THE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE

factor, and the elevation of the legislative branch to
supreme power.

The trial opened formally on March 5, 1868, and
from the very start there was plain evidence that
neither decency nor fairness were to be considered by
the prosecution. Ben Butler " Beast " Butler lead-
ing off for the House managers, made a political
harangue as vicious and intemperate, as coarse and
violent as any that Johnson himself had ever de-
livered, and time after time the Chief Justice's rulings
were set aside.

There was early admission that Johnson had been
well within his rights in removing Stanton, and with
this principal charge removed, all emphasis was put
upon the accusation of misconduct and contumacy.

Witness after witness testified as to the exact
words of Johnson's unfortunate speech from the
White House balcony, and reported the passionate
outbursts that had marked his " swing around the
circle. " Gossip was permitted to parade as certainty,
and the highways and byways were combed for dis-
creditable incidents.

Day by day, inventing pretext and making oppor-
tunities, his enemies thrust themselves into the White
House, eager to gloat over the man they were crucify-
ing. Here, at last, they were cheated. Down upon
his lonely head beat the hate of a country, and in the
room at his back the wife of his heart lay dying, but
no man was privileged to see a sign of weakness in
Andrew Johnson's bleak, craggy face.

Midway in the trial the attitude of every Senator
had been ascertained save one. Thirty-five Republi-
cans wore known to be roady to vote guilty, while six
Republicans "were joined with twelve Democrats in a
conviction of Johnson's innocence.

[285]

SON8 OF THE EAGLE

The one senator who refused to let himself be
placed was Edmund Gr. Boss of Kansas. To threats
of political ruin, even hints of assassination, he made
the one unchanging answer that he would cast his vote
in accordance with the evidence and the dictates of his
own conscience.

Slowly the trial worked to its end, marked by a hate
and bitterness that increased with every hour of de-
bate, and on May sixteenth, when the last appeal to
partisanship had been made, the Senate gathered for
a test vote on the eleventh article.

One by one Eepublicans and Democrats gave their
aye and nay, but it was for Boss's name that all waited
with an expectancy so intense that it had a quality of
anguish. Thirty-six votes were needed to drag
Andrew Johnson from his high office, and the prosecu-
tion was sure of thirty-five.

As he sat, white-faced but composed, no man knew
what was in the mind of the Kansas Senator. The
defense may have counted on his statement that he
would vote in accordance with the evidence, for the
case against Johnson had been ripped to pieces, but
on the other hand a vote for acquittal meant political
ruin and social ostracism. Would he put conscience
above his fortune?

When Boss's name was called, the silence of death
fell on the chamber, and although he did not lift his
voice, his "nay" had the effect of some tremendous
shout.

Sumner and Wade felt the acquittal as a mortal
blow, and crippled Thaddeus Stevens, carried away on
the shoulders of his henchmen, suffered agonies. Only
in the White House itself was there calm. Johnson,
as impassive as an Indian at the torture stake, hoard
the news without elation, even as he had borne the

[286]

TEE TAILOR FROM TENNESSEE

strain without visible sign of anxiety. Characteris-
tically, his first act was ,to kick Stanton out of office.

H.3ad still high, he left the "White House with not
a single voice lifted to wish him well, and once again
in Tennessee, took up the dreary business of " beating
back." Now it was not ambition that moved him, but
an emotion of even larger appeal to his fierce nature
revenge.

He walked a lane of hatred and contempt, for the
Unionists despised him no less than the southerners,
but he had not lost his gift of haranguing the mob,
and in 1872 he was elected to Congress.

Tireless, indomitable, following his hates with the
tenacity of a hound, he added to his political strength
by trick and stratagem, and three years later attained
his goal. Almost a smile lighted his somber eyes as
he strode down the aisle of the Senate, scene of the
greatest humiliation ever visited on an American, and
received the oath of office from one of those who had
fought most fiercely to work his ruin.

A tremendous moment, but even so there were
bitter drops in his cup. Sumner and Stevens were in
the grave, beyond the reach, of his rage, and not his
loudest shout could wake their dull, cold ears. In the
President's chair, however, sat Ulysses S. Grant,
almost as greatly hated, and on his head Andrew John-
son poured out the black accumulation of Ms cankered
heart.

A sick man, death had no power to move him to
gentleness, and with savage courage he held himself
erect until the last word of his attack had been de-
livered, and died as he had lived hating, fighting.

[287]

XXIV

TO THE LAST MAN*

NOT in the history of the western plains is there
record of any other such Indian encampment as that
which sprawled along the banks of the Little Big Horn
in the snmmer of 1876, for the hot Montana sun beat
down upon more than five thousand redskins, driven
into alliance by their hates and fears*

All of the tribes of the great Sioux Nation were
standing shoulder to shoulder at last the Hunkpapas
under crafty Gall, Crow King and Black Moon; the
Ogalallas and Brules with Crazy Horse as their des-
potic chieftain; Scabby Head and his Blackfcot;
Spotted Tail and his San Arcs; the Mineconjous with
Fast Bull and Hump; the Tanktonnais and Santees,
led by wise old Inkpaduta; and to swell the painted
host came White Bull and Two Moon, leading the
Northern Cheyennes and Arapahoes.

Well may content have filled the heart of Sitting
Bull, a chief and mighty medicine man of the Sioux,
for the savage army that he looked upon was entirely
the work of his cunning hands- Through the years he
had preached a gospel of hate against the palefaces,
urging united resistance to their advance, and now ho
had made his dream come true.

For a while it seemed that the Treaty of 1868
would defeat him, for it gave the Sioux a vast stretch
of territory the Dakotas, northern Nebraska, Wy-
oming and Montana the United States pledging faith

[288]

TO THE LAST MAN

that this land should ever be the Indian's own, but
soon it suffered the fate of previous treaties.

The discovery of gold in the Black Hills brought a
rush of white adventurers into the very heart of the
Sioux possessions, and while the government gave
orders for their exclusion, only a handful of soldiers
were supplied for the purpose. Like a locust swarm
the gold-mad whites swept the land, and, as if this
were not injury enough, the Northern Pacific began to
plan its line from Bismarck to the Yellowstone. It
was an open violation of the treaty, yet not only did
the United States approve it, but soldiers were pro-
vided to protect the surveyors, driving the Indians
from the hunting grounds that they had thought to
enjoy in peace.

Leaping forward to grasp his opportunity, Sitting
Bull had journeyed from village to village, fanning
sullen angers into flame, making "medicine" that
promised victory, and the result of his tireless efforts
was the great Indian army that filled the valley of the
Little Big Horn, eager and ready for battle with the
hated whites. Nor was it any mere prairie rabble,
armed only with bows and arrows, for every warrior
carried a modern repeating rifle and two first-class
revolvers, and in every tepee there were piles of am-
munition.

As he gazed, Sitting Bull's lip must have curled
with a new contempt for the whole white race, for
every rifle, revolver and cartridge stood as a mani-
festation of greed and infamy. The fur traders of St.
Louis, slipping up the Missouri in heavy-laden steam-
ers, had sold them to the Indians in exchange for
buffalo robes and pelts, even though they knew that
each rifle was to be used against their own people, that
each cartridge might mean the death of a soldier.

[289]

J30NS OF THE EAGLE

Strong in numbers, admirably armed, it was in
supreme confidence, therefore, that Sitting Bull and
his allied tribes awaited the coming of the " blue-
coats. "

"What added to the great chief's serenity was his
knowledge that the United States was sending no more
than two thousand seven hundred men against him,
and that even this small army was divided into three
parts. From the south marched Crook with one thou-
sand three hundred men; from the east came Terry
and Ouster, and from Fort Ellis came Gibbon.

General Terry, calling Ouster and Gibbon into
council on the banks of the Yellowstone, had no reason
to believe that the Indian force, somewhere in front of
him, was of large number, for by careful estimate it
had been figured that not more than one thousand five
hundred Indians were "off the reservation. "

Here was an instance of the shameless dishonesty
that characterized the conduct of the Bureau of Indian
Affairs, for although every agent knew that fully half
of his charges had slipped away to join Sitting Bull,
no reports had been made. This, because the agents
found rich profit in selling the supplies of the absen-
tees, and kept these names on the books as "present
and accounted for."

Out of his ignorance, General Terry thought that
his problem was simply one of cunning pursuit, rather
than pitched battle, and laid Ms plans to corner tho
Indians. Knowing that Crook was coming up from
the south, he sent Gibbon and four hundred men to
scout the banks of the Big Horn, and despatched Ous-
ter with some six hundred men to investigate an
Indian trail that had been found on the Eosebud,

^ In event that the trail led to the valley of the
Little Big Horn, Ouster was ordered to delay his

[290]

TO THE LAST MAN

advance until Gibbon could come up, the idea being
to have the two reach the Little Big Horn at the same
time, about June twenty-sixth.

It was on the morning of June twenty-second that
George Ouster and his Seventh Cavalry set out for the
Bosebud, as gallant a band as ever sat saddle, the
dashing leader a figure of romance in his fringed
buckskins and floating yellow curls. Only thirty-
seven, few lives had been more packed with color and
splendid achievement. Leaping into the battle of Bull
Bun, a mere boy, he was a brigadier-general of volun-
teers at twenty-four. And not even Sheridan played
a more dramatic part in the closing days of war, for it
was Ouster who herded Lee's battered legions into the
hopeless positions that led to surrender.

Sent west in 1866, he had made himself the great
outstanding figure in the Indian wars, crushing the
savages in battle after battle, harrying them over
mountain and plain, careless of summer 9 s heat and
winter blizzards. In 1876, therefore, when the War
Department decided upon a vigorous campaign to
round up Sitting Bull and his malcontents, it fol-
lowed naturally that brilliant Ouster the Yellow Hair
of Indian fame should be assigned to command of
the eastern division. Even as he rejoiced, however,
grim, implacable President Grant issued an order re-
moving him from his command, and forbidding him to
take part in the expedition.

The poorest judge of men that ever lived, unhappy
Grant was surrounded by thieves from the very start
of his administration, and nowhere was corruption
more rampant than in the War Department. Ouster,
hot-headed and out-spoken, waxed increasingly furi-
ous as he watched his men sicken and die from rotten
food and saw the junk rifles and cartridges that were

[291]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

sent him. Bitterly attacking these conditions, as well
as the thievery of the Indian agents, even a court-
martial and suspension of office for a year had not
been able to make him hold his tongue.

It seemed Ouster's hour of triumph when the House
impeached Secretary of War Belknap, bringing for-
ward plain evidence that he had been a silent partner
in the corruptions of Indian agents, but there was still
President Grant to reckon with. Stubbornly refusing
to admit Belknap 's guilt, Grant turned his anger upon
all who testified against his friend, and when Ouster
appeared before a Congressional committee, and told
the truth as he knew it, he struck instantly and hard.

Ouster was ordered to stay at home, and General
Terry put in charge of the Indian campaign, and
although the strenuous intercession of Sherman and
Sheridan won Ouster the right to accompany the ex-
pedition, it was only as second in command. It must
have been with a feeling of relief, therefore, that Ous-
ter left Terry behind and struck out into the Montana
wilderness on his own, hopeful of some chance for a
bold stroke that would retrieve his fortunes.

Striking the Indian trail on the Eosebud Eiver,
Ouster followed like a hound on the scent, and by the
night of the twenty-fourth, found that it led over the
divide into the valley of the Little Big Horn. While
Terry had ordered that the pursuit be delayed until a
juncture could be effected with Gibbon and his four
hundred men, Ouster had been given leave to use his
discretion, and all of his experience pointed to the
necessity of quick action.

It was never the habit of the Indians to give battle,
and the one hope of bringing them to bay wa& by a
surprise march. Ouster did not dream that there were
more than a thousand Indians, at the most, nor were

[292]

TO THE LAST MAN

there telegraphs to tell him that Crook had been
soundly whipped just one week before by Crazy Horse,
and that the Indian Village was even then shouting
its joy and beating the drums of confidence.

Giving the order to march, Custer led his men
through the pitch-black night, his plan being to gain
the divide, hide in the rocks throughout the day, and
attack the village at dawn. Ten weary miles were
made, and at sunrise on the fateful morning of June
twenty-fifth, the Crow scouts mounted a high point,
and returned with the report that the encampment of
the Sioux lay in the valley some fifteen miles away.

Even with his telescope, however, Custer could not
see the village. In any event, the plan for a surprise
attack was brought to an end, for it soon became
known that Sioux scouts had discovered the presence
of the column, and Custer now decided to ride forward
swiftly on the chance that he might get in a blow at
the village, if village there was.

Plunging down into the valley, he halted his men
at noon, and still doubtful that the scouts had seen an
encampment of any size, resolved to divide his com-
mand in such manner as to form a net. Major Marcus
Keno, with one hundred and twelve men, was swung
to the left, Captain F. "W. Benteen, with some one hun-
dred and fifty men, was ordered still further to the
left, at a sharp angle, and Custer himself went forward
on the extreme right, leaving a company to guard the
pack train.

Each soldier took one hundred rounds for his car-
bine, and twenty-four rounds for his pistol, and at
a sharp trot the doomed battalions set off on their ride
into the jaws of death.

About two o'clock, when Custer and Reno joined
forces again, they had ridden nine miles and were still

[293]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

three miles from the Little Big Horn. Here and there
were evidences of Indian occupation, and a scout,
climbing to higher ground, saw a small body of Sioux
in swift retreat. The news confirmed Ouster's belief
that the Indians were flying before his approach, and
with swift decision he ordered Eeno and his command
to cross the river in pursuit, saying that he himself
would follow in support of any charge.

"When the two men parted, it was never to see each
other again in life. Reno, fording the river, saw only
a great dust cloud Chief Gall's clever plan to conceal
his strength; and as he advanced, this cloud parted
before the swift charge of hundreds of Sioux. Instead
of meeting and breaking the charge, however, Eeno
dismounted his men and led them into a clump of
timber, at the same time rushing a courier to Ouster
with word that the Indians were in force before him.

From every side poured the shouting Sioux, led by
Gall, bravest and craftiest of all the Indian host.
Beaten back to the heart of the timber, and realizing
that ammunition was giving out, Eeno called an order
for his men to mount, but while the words were still
on his lips, the redskins burst into the clearing, and
Reno's face was spattered by the brains of the scout
that stood beside him.

Losing his head completely, the frantic commander
now shouted conflicting orders, and spurred forward
to the open. Most of his battalion followed him, but
seventeen men were left behind.

Eed men and white raced to the rivor in one in-
distinguishable mass, shooting, hacking, wrestling,
and even as they drove their horses through the water,
Sioux and soldiers locked in terrible death grapples*

Struggling up the far slope, Reno hastily formed
his survivors on high ground and turned to meet the

[294]

TO THE LAST MAN

Indian charge. For a moment their lives hung In the
balance and then, as if in obedience to orders that
Eeno could not hear, the Indians turned suddenly and
rode away to the north, stopping only to butcher the
seventeen white men left in the timber.

It was this slaughter that Captain Benteen saw as
he topped a hill about a mile away from Eeno's posi-
tion. A ride of twelve miles had convinced him that
there were no Indians in that part of the country to
which Ouster had sent him and, turning back, he rode
hard to rejoin the command. At the spot where Ous-
ter and Eeno had separated, he met a sergeant, carry-
ing a message from Ouster to hurry up the pack trains,
and a mile further on, another rider came spurring
across the plain.

"Benteen. Come on. Big village. Be quick.
Bring packs.' ' This was the order that he read, and in
amplification the messenger told that the Indians were
in flight, and Ouster was preparing to deliver a charge.

Hurrying his men forward, anxious to be in at the
death, Benteen reached high ground only to witness
the massacre of the seventeen unfortunates who were
trying to race from the timber to the river. Learning
of Eeno's whereabouts from a Crow scout, he led his
command to the hill where the remainder of the bat-
talion was digging at the flinty earth with knives and
spoons, desperately trying to throw up some cover.

"Where is Ouster?" This was Benteen 's first
question, but Eeno could not tell. It was now half past
four, and they had parted at two-thirty. Down the
river, undoubtedly. He had not crossed, and during
the retreat heavy firing had been heard to the north.
Even as Eeno and Benteen talked, another heavy crash
of rifles came to them on the wind. Young Captain
Weir cried out that Custer must be engaged, and act-

[295]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

ing on orders from Reno, he started north, followed by
his company, Eeno and Benteen, after waiting for the
pack train to come up, moved after him.

No further sound reached them, and as they started
down-stream, a great horde of Sioux raced up the
valley, yelling like devils as they forded the river and
sprang to the attack.

Eetreating to their former position, Eeno and Ben-
teen beat off the assault until darkness fell, but dawn
brought the Indians back, and until noon the battle
raged. At least four thousand Sioux encircled the
dwindled band, but once again, as they looked death
in the face the Indians fell back, and soon the whole
red army was winding over the distant hills like some
monster snake*

Not until the following morning the twenty-
seventh did Eeno and Benteen, learn that it was the
approach of Terry and Gibbon that had driven the
savages away. As the blue column rode into view, a
great cheer rose from men who had counted them-
selves dead, but joy was short-lived, for news of
Ouster's fate chilled every heart. Four miles down-
stream, Terry and Gibbon had come upon all that
remained of Yellow Hair and his men, their sightless
eyes staring into the sun, their naked mutilated bodies
twisted into shapes of horror.

What happened to Custer after leaving Eeno can
only be surmised, for of the two hundred and twenty-
five men who rode at his side, not one returned to tell
the tale of horror. He was about three quarters of a
mile from the river when Eeno's messenger reached
him with the word that the Indians were attacking in
force. It is known that he swung to the right at once,
starting down-stream, for it was shortly afterward
that he sent Sergeant Kanipe to speed up the pack

[296] F

TO THE LAST MAN

train. It is known, also, that he mounted a ridge three
miles down the river and caught his first sight of the
Indian village, seemingly asleep in the hot sun of
afternoon,

"We've got them!" he cried. "We've caught
them napping." So much was learned from Trump-
eter John Martin, who stood beside him on the ridge,
and then galloped back with the imperative message
to Benteen. It is at this point that the curtain falls,
shutting off all that followed, for Martin was the last
white man to see any of that doomed company alive.

It is obvious that Ouster assumed that Eeno would
be able to hold the Indians in check, for the whole
campaign was based on the belief that the redskin
army did not exceed one thousand five hundred in
number*

With Eeno cutting them off at the south, his bold
mind figured that a drive from the north would catch
the Sioux in a trap, and it was to carry out this plan
that he raced downstream, sending back his messengers
to hurry up Benteeu and the pack train. Even should
the Indians stand and he did not think they would
the outcome was not to be feared, for throughout his
years of Indian fighting, the odds had always been ten
to one against the soldier.

What he could not know was that the odds
were twenty to one, and that while a corrupt War
Department had furnished his men with single-loading
carbines and defective ammunition, the Sioux were
armed with the latest model Winchester and copper
cartridges, generously supplied them by traders low
enough to put their greed above patriotism. Nor did
he know that the deserted appearance of the village
was part of Chief Gall's cunning plan, and that the
Ogalallas and Cheyennes, under Crazy Horse and Two

[297]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Moon, were lying in wait like tigers crouched for a
spring.

Down from the ridge charged Ouster and his men
and, as they neared the river, thousands of redskins
leaped from cover and struck the little band of whites
with the force of a tidal wave. Even as they recovered
from the shock and massed to fight for their lives,
Chief Gall and the Hunkpapas and Blackfeet came
upon the field, fresh from the slaughter of Beno's men.

At once Gall sent Crazy Horse and Two Moon
across the river to gain Ouster's rear, and as the des-
perate "band reached higher ground in their retreat,
Ogalallas and Cheyennes rose from the earth, and beat
them back upon the rifles and knives of Gall and his
charging horde.

When Terry and Gibbon moved among the bodies
that piled the battlefield, they found Ouster lying with
bullets through his temple and his breast. "Tom"
Ouster, near-by, had had his heart cut out by Rain-in-
the-Face, an ancient enemy, but no mutilating knife
had been permitted to touch the corpse of Yellow Hair.
Cruel and bloodthirsty though they were, the Indians
paid a tribute to bravery, and so it was that the wait-
ing widow received one of the long golden locks to
press against her broken heart.

[298]

XXV

A WESTEBN ITAPOLEON"

As "Old Bough and Keady" Taylor leaped the Eio
Grande, carrying war Into the enemy's country, dash-
ing Stephen Kearny left Fort Leavenworth and raced
across the flaming plains of Kansas for the conquest of
New Mexico and California.

Mules dropped in their traces, and men died of
thirst and exhaustion, but with an empire at stake
there could be no halt. Over Eaton Pass and down the
mountain sides they plunged ragged, footsore, in-
domitable; and such was the fear inspired by the
wild marchers that ancient Santa Fe surrendered
without the firing of a shot.

On to California rode Kearny and his dragoons,
leaving Alexander W. Doniphan and his Missouri
volunteers to strike the blow at far Chihuahua. Into
the desert spurred the gigantic leader and his gallant
Eight Hundred across the terrible Jornada del Mu~
erto, burning by day and freezing by nightfighting a
way into El Paso; again the ghastly stretches of sand
and cactus, a victorious battle against five times their
number at the crossing of the Sacramento, and Chi-
huahua fell into their hands like a ripe plum.

It was a wild and reckless band that Colonel
Doniphan led, but wildest and most reckless of all was
huge Bon Holliday. Singing as he fought, laughing as
he killed, nothing seemed more certain than that he
would follow adventure and excitement to some vio-

[299]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

lent end, yet fourteen years from that crowded summer
of 1846, Ben Holliday sat in the seats of the mighty,
possessor of millions and a power in the land, hailed
from coast to coast as the Napoleon of western
transportation.

Owning five thousand miles of stage line, he num-
bered his horses, mules and oxen by the thousands,
and his feed bill alone was a million a year. From
San Francisco he sent his fleet of fast steamers to the
Orient and carried supplies to Maximilian, perched so
insecurely on his Mexican throne. Nevada mines
poured their wealth into his lap and his eager fingers
grabbed tribute from the riches of Idaho and Montana.
In his million-dollar palace near New York he enter-
tained the political leaders of the day with Baby-
lonian magnificence, and the one bitterness of his
colorful, conquering life was that his two daughters
saw fit to marry European titles.

Eighteen days was the average run of his swift
stages from Atchison to Placerville, but this was not
fast enough for Ben Holliday when he came WoBt
twice a year to inspect his properties.

Thoroughbreds drew his coach, whipped until their
bellies touched the sand at every leap; men waited in
the desert with fresh horses to provide more frequent
changes; his agents went with him from one station
to another, reporting as they rode, and returned to
their dangers and hardships, proud and happy at hav-
ing felt the hearty clasp of Ben's huge, bejowolod paw;
and furious was the magnate's anger if the journey
took more than twelve days.

What though each trip cost him twenty thousand
dollars? In everything he was as royal as an Eastern
rajah.

A storekeeper after the Mexican War, it ia in 1850

[300]

A WESTERN NAPOLEON

that we find Ben Holliday making Ms first bid for
fortune, freighting a caravan of fifty wagons from
Independence, Missouri, to Salt Lake. Brigham
Young, looking hard into the eyes of the adventurous
young G-entile, saw him as one of his own kind, and
publicly proclaimed him worthy of trade and trust.

Following the rush of the gold-seekers, Holliday
drove his oxen to California, and while others went
mad with the treasure hunt, his shrewd eyes saw that
these thronging thousands would have to be fed. Out
of the profits of his freighting he built mercantile
houses in San Francisco and Salt Lake City, and then
his vision leaped ahead to the problem of mails.

The water route, via the Isthmus of Panama, took
a month to carry letters from New York to California,
and the overland route bettered this time but little,
owing to the haphazard method of operation. Taking
over the mail contract between Sacramento and Salt
Lake, Holliday put in covered wagons and four mule
teams, and reached out to secure the government con-
tract between Salt Lake and Atchison, thus spanning
the continent.

Opposition rose, however, because of the delays
caused by winter snows in the High Sierras, and when
the postmaster-general gave his decision in favor of a
southern route, Ben Holliday ? s career seemed to have
been given a permanent check.

With John Butterfield, of Utica, New York, winner
of the contract, were associated Wells and Fargo, soon
to be masters of the express business in the West, and
it was with superb courage that these men devoted
their fortunes and energies to the subjugation of the
desert. The distance from St. Louis to San Francisco,
by way of Little Eock, El Paso, Yuma and Los An-
geles, was 2,759 miles; through Texas there was the

[301]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

ever-present menace of the Comanches; Mangus Colo-
rado and his Apaches crouched in the canyons of
Arizona and New Mexico, and over the line from
Mexico swarmed desperadoes of every nationality,
cunning in ambush and deadly in attack.

One hundred stations had to he established in the
naked desert, and not a station but was wet with blood
before the end, yet from 1858 to 1861, week in, week
out, the Butterfield people kept up a fairly steady
schedule of twenty-five days for the trip.

Fast and faster, Americans streamed to the Pacific
Coast by 1859 a half million were in California,
Oregon and Washington and again the cry was
raised for quicker communication between East and
West.

At this time the firm of Eussell, Majors and Wad-
dell was master of the overland freighting business,
seventy-five thousand oxen drawing their great wagon
trains across the desert, and Senator William Gwin,
of California, meeting Russell in Washington, urged
the idea of a Pony Express that would cut the stage
time in half. There was every probability of ruin in
the venture, for the government refused financial aid,
but when his partners learned that Eussell had
pledged his honor, they nodded their grizzled heads,
and set to work to make his word good.

The firm had a stage line of its own, running from
Atchison to Salt Lake, via Denver, but all beyond was
Ben Holliday's domain. Aside from the daring plan's
own particular appeal, shrewd Holliday saw that the
Pony Express offered a chance to vindicate the central
route in a fight for mail contracts, and he threw his
fortunes in with Eussell, Waddoll and Majors,

Scores of new stations were built and manned, the
was combed for its fastest horses, and out of the
[302]

A WESTERN NAPOLEON

hundreds of wild riders that clamored for places,
eighty were picked for strength, intelligence and
proved courage. Each man was to ride a division
ranging from seventy-five to one hnndred and twenty-
five miles, changing mounts every ten or fifteen miles,
and as he rode alone, armed only with revolver and
bowie knife, his life depended upon his own resource,
plus the speed of his horse.

On April 3, 1860, all was in readiness, and amid
the cheers of vast crowds, Harry Eoff spurred his
mustang away from Sacramento, and Aleck C&rlyle
raced out of St. Joseph. As a station was approached,
coyote yells brought out the stock-tender with a fresh
mount; there was the swift exchange of pouch from
one saddle to the other, and at breakneck speed the
rider raced on to the point where waited his relief.

Ten days was the unfailing average of a Pony
Express trip, but when need called, the reckless cen-
taurs ever found new wells of endurance to call upon.
Buchanan's last message was delivered in San Fran-
cisco in seven days and nineteen hours, and the
despatch of Lincoln's Inaugural Address bettered this
time by two hours,

It was not only against sand storms and winter
snows, treacherous streams and mountain precipice
that the riders had to contend, for Sioux and Pah-Ute
ranged the trail, more deadly than the rattlesnake. It
was in the Pony Express that " Wild Bill" Hickok and
"Buffalo Bill" Cody won their spurs, and that "Pony
Bob" Haslam and "Jim" Moore wrote their names in
bronze*

Starting out from Virginia City when the signal
fires of the Pah-Utes blazed from every mountain peak
in Nevada, Haslam rode one hundred and ninety miles
before lie f ound a relief, and, after a brief rest, made

[303]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

the return trip without other stop than to change his
mounts. One station was deserted, and at another he
saw the mutilated body of the stock-tender lying beside
the smoking ruins of his stockade; although war
parties were all about him, he slipped through and
made the round trip of three hundred and eighty miles
only four hours behind schedule.

"Jim" Moore, owing to the murder of one rider
and the sickness of another, rode two hundred and
eighty miles in fourteen hours and forty-six minutes,
an average of eighteen miles an hour. Under similar
circumstances the burning of stations and the
murder of riders "Buffalo Bill" rode three hundred
and twenty-two miles, and time after time fought his
way through Indian bands, outshooting and out-
racing them. Even though fainting from exhaustion
or wounded to the death, it was a point of honor to
"carry on," and no man ever failed.

They did not know it these slim youths with
hearts of oak and frames of steel but it was the end
of the romance of the West that they were writing.
Even as they rode their wild courses, far-seeing
Edward Oreighton won the Western Union Telegraph
Company to his way of thinking and set out to survey
a line from Omaha to the coast. Traveling to Salt
Lake, he gained the approval and support of Brigham
Young, but in California he found another company
busily preparing to string wires eastward.

The government, by way of spurring competition,
offered a subsidy of forty thousand dollars a year to
the company that would first reach Salt Lako, and the
race began in 1861. Creighton reached the goal on
October seventeenth, one week ahead of the Call-
fornians, and when the first message flashed from
ocean to ocean, the Pony Express wont out of exist-
ence.

[304]

A WESTERN NAPOLEON

Tragedy followed in its wake. Senator Gwin, re-
sponsible for the idea, had held to the secret belief
that quick communication between East and West
would give California to the South, but instead of that,
the Pony Express saved the Pacific Coast to the Union.

Unhappy Gwin, casting his fortunes with the
Confederacy, lost wealth and position, and fleeing to
Mexico at last, received the title of Duke of Sonora
from the hands of Maximilian, a man as ill-fated as
himself.

As for Eussell, Majors and Waddell, their heavy
losses on the Pony Express, coming on top of other
unfortunate investments, crippled the firm so badly
that the sale of their properties became necessary, and
Ben Holliday bought them in.

Now was he arrived at last, sole and undisputed
king of western transportation. With Texas seced-
ing, the Southern Eoute had to be given up, and Hol-
liday gained the government mail contracts at an
award of one million dollars a year for three years, to
be augmented by a bonus of eight hundred and forty
thousand dollars. A fleet of steamers puffed between
St. Louis and Atchison, carrying grain for his horses,
mules and ox#n; his swift Concord stages great
cradles that swung easily on broad leather straps
passed his hundreds of lumbering Conestoga wagons
as they drew freight across the plains, and additional
ships were added to Ms fleet that ploughed the waters
of the Pacific.

From Denver he sent stage lines to the Colorado
mining camps ; from Salt Lake City he despatched his
coaches on tri-weekly trips through the Idaho camps
to Puget Sound, and with equal enterprise he reached
the mines of Montana and Nevada.

Curiously blind for one so f ar-visioned, he refused

[305]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

to admit the possibility of a railroad across the Great
American desert, and poured his money into the stage
lines as though they were to endure forever. From
every quarter the bold souls of a dying order came at
his call, driving his stages and tending his stations, all
devoted to the huge, indomitable man who loved them
even while he cursed them.

Jack Slade was one of his division superintendents
with headquarters at Julesburg. " Clean up," ordered
Holliday, and Slade did. One disgruntled individual
put a double load of lead slugs into his body at fifty
feet, but Slade was soon up and never stopped until he
had captured the peevish gentleman. Bringing him
back to Julesburg, he tied him to a snubbing post, and
after giving an exhibition of fancy marksmanship for
some little time, finally put a bullet between his eyes
and then cut off both ears as pocket pieces.

Great was the outcry against Bon Holliday as a
monopolist, for he charged five hundred dollars a pas-
senger between Atchison and Sacramento, and his
freight tariffs ranged from eighteen to sixty cents a
pound, but critics did not take into account the
magnitude of his expenses or the losses occasioned by
Indian depredations.

From 1864 to 1866, the savages combined in a des-
perate attempt to wipe the white men from the plains,
and between Salt Lake and the Sierras, scarce one of
Holliday ? s stations but were burned, and many a
bloody ambush forced passengers and drivers to fight
for their lives. Before the ashes were cold ho was
rebuilding, but as in the case of the Pony Express,
there was coming something against which even Ms
iron will could not avail.

Unlucky Fremont had had the idea of a transcon-
tinental railroad; the last two of his tragic journeys

[306]

A WESTERN NAPOLEON

were in search of a practicable route ; and as early as
1861 Congress passed a bill in support of a line from
the Missouri to the coast.

Failure followed failure and in 1864 the govern-
ment again came to the rescue of private enterprise,
offering cash Subsidies and great grants of land.
Doubtless it was this record of delay and incompetency
that gave Ben Holliday his firm belief that the railroad
would never be built, but suddenly the West rang to
the conquering tread of men as masterful as Holliday
himself.

In California, shaggy, massive Collis P. Hunting-
ton put himself behind the building of the Central
Pacific, and at his side were Leland Stanford, Mark
Hopkins and Charles Crocker. Eails began to be laid,
and in November, 1865, ground was broken at Omaha
for the Union Pacific.

Millions were at stake in the construction race, for
each company had the right to build until the two lines
joined, and for each new mile the government paid
thousands in money and awarded whole sections of
land.

In 1867, however, with only three hundred miles
built, the Credit Mobilier financial agency for the con-
struction of the Union Pacific reached the end of its
resources. Huntington and his associates had driven
their road across the Sierras by this time, and a laugh
must have rumbled in the Calif ornian's throat as he
saw the plight of his rivals. He laughed too soon, for
Congressman Oakes Ames a Massachusetts million-
aire, and of the same huge dominant breed of empire
builders as Huntington and Holliday threw himself
into the breach.

Eaising money from every side, he rushed an army
of workers to the West ex-soldiers for the most

[307]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

part and as the railroad leaped forward Union men
and Confederates, officers and privates, worked side
by side, enmities forgotten in a common task. And
still it was war, for the Indians of the plains massed to
beat back the Iron Horse, and every construction
camp was a fort, every mile of new track a bloodier
battle. Here it was that " Buffalo Bill" gained his
name, killing the bison herds to supply General Jack
Casement's men with meat.

Before Huntington realized, the race was an even
one, and with bull bellows he and Crocker lashed their
own construction army to fiercer effort. Track-laying
records were made one day only to be broken the next,
and as each side saw the mountains of the Salt Lake
country, the plains rang to a frenzy of exertion.

Only friendly inspectors, turned into partisans by
the fight, made possible the approval of the last miles,
for rails were only half -riveted to ties, and trestles
were tied together with ropes. It was on May 10, 1869,
that the struggle ended, the two rail ends joining at
Promontory Point on the Great Salt Lake, linking the
Atlantic and the Pacific with bands of steel.

Even as disaster overtook Russell, Majors and
"Waddell as a result of the Pony Express, so was Oakes
Ames overthrown in the hour of his triumph. The
Credit Mobilier scandal burst in 1872 Ames was
accused of having distributed the company's stock in
bribes, and no less than Vice-President Schuylor Col-
fax and Congressmen James G. Blaino and James A.
Garfield were named as being among those who had
accepted his largesse and he was tried by tho House.

After the trial that left Oakes Ames a shattered,
dying man, the politicians decided that Colfax, Blaino
and Garfield were absolutely innocent of wrong-doing,
but that Ames himself was guilty,

[308]

A WESTERN NAPOLEON

And what of Ben Holliday? Not until 1866 would
his stubborn soul admit the certainty of the railroad 's
completion, and then he turned to Wells and Fargo,
his long-time rivals, and acknowledged defeat. Their
express business had grown until it reached into every
western community, and with as graceful a bow as his
pride could summon, Holliday accepted something like
three million dollars for his stages, stations, stock and
great supply depots.

Other men might have retired, but not Ben Holli-
day. For some years a group in Oregon had been
fooling around with the plan of a railroad from Puget
Sound to California, and into this situation the ex-
Napoleon projected himself with his usual vigor.

Taking over the claims of one faction, he bought
such newspapers as he could not subsidize, made the
legislature his puppet, and launched a, great social,
financial and political campaign that smashed the
opposing faction and left him in full control of the
situation. Again "Washington knew him tremendous
and princely and again Ophir Farm was the scene of
royal hospitalities with the result that Congress show-
ered him with powers and privileges.

It was not only his own millions that Ben Holli-
day poured into his Oregon railroad; he drew still
more millions from over the Atlantic, European in-
vestors yielding to the magic of the pictures that he
painted.

Success was in sight when the panic of 1873 struck
his towering financial structure with all the force of a
tornado. Compelled to default on his bonds, Ophir
Farm and his other palaces were taken from him, and
the day followed quickly when he sat across the
table from, and under the dictation of, Henry Villard,
a quiet, iron-jawed German representing European in-

[3093

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

vestors, signed the papers that stripped him of his
railroad and steamship companies.

Out of Holliday's dream came the great Northern
Pacific Railway and the old West passed. A flesh
and blood embodiment of that old West the Golden
West of reckless adventure, daily daring and hand to
hand struggle he could not long survive its passing.

[310]

XXVI

THE SCANDALS OF 1876

MASTY queer instruments have been employed by
the destiny that presides over America, but never did
there seem to be a more unlikely selection than
Rutherford B. Hayes, nineteenth president of the
United States. Colorless and heavy, he epitomized
everything commonplace and parochial, yet he was
called upon to play the leading part in a great national
drama, tremendous in its importance and intensity,
and it was his painful, drudging progress through the
wallows of shame that led a hate-torn, disintegrating
country to the high ground of peace and unity.

Entering the Eepublican convention in 1876 as a
presidential candidate, simple, unassuming Hayes did
not appear to have a chance, for James GL Blaine was
the idol of his party. The Plumed Knight, however,
happened to be more than usually weighted down with
enmities and scandals at the time, and various con-
siderations joined to make the Eepublican leaders
stand in fear of carrying a single additional burden.
The orgy of corruption that marked Grant's two terms
had shocked even partisans into revolt, and quite as
strong was the feeling with regard to southern condi-
tions.

" Carpetbag governments, " supported in their
thieveries and oppressions by soldiers of the United
States, had shamed and sickened the whole country,
and in virtually every southern and border state

[311]

SONS OF TEE EAGLE

Republicans were making no secret of their intention
to support Democratic tickets. With every indication
that the South would be lost to them, and confronted
in the North by wide-spread desertion, the party
leaders decided that Elaine's scandals constituted too
great a load, and suddenly switched to Hayes.

Eepublican alarm was in no wise soothed by the
selection of Samuel J. Tilden as the Democratic
standard-bearer, for the great New York lawyer had
leaped into national fame as a result of activities that
proved his honesty and courage.

Almost single-handed he had exposed and scourged
the evil Tweed Ring, sending the thieves of Tammany
Hall to prison or into exile. Elected governor of his
state, he continued his attack upon corruption, regard-
less of party, and the manner in which he tore the
infamous Canal Ring into fragments endeared him to
the people as a fearless champion of clean govern-
ment.

Not since the campaign of 1860 had there been an
election day more packed with thrills and fierce ex-
citement, but at its close it seemed a certainty that
Tilden had won* On the face of the returns he had
carried not only the solid South, but also New York,
New Jersey, Connecticut, Delaware, Indiana, Missouri,
Kentucky and Maryland, giving him two hundred and
three electoral votes to one hundred and sixty-six for
Hayes. By ten o'clock that night, Eepublican do oat
was admitted, even partisan papers having given up
the struggle.

Just as the New York Times was going to press, its
columns containing the sad concession of Tilden 's vic-
tory, the editor received a note from Senator Banram,
chairman of the Democratic national committee, asking
for news from Louisiana, Florida and South, Carolina.

[312]

THE SCANDALS OF 1876

John C. Reid, the news editor, was quick to see the
opportunity offered by Barnum's plain intimation of
uncertainty, for if the Democrats were not sure of
the three states, there was still time for Republican
claims. The presses were stopped at once, and the
returns revised in such manner as to put the nineteen
votes of South Carolina and Florida in the Hayes
column, giving him one hundred and eighty-five votes
to Tilden's one hundred and eighty-four.

Before dawn Eeid was at Republican headquarters,
dragging Zachariah Chandler from his bed to listen
to as bold a plan as any politician ever conceived.
Even though Tilden had one hundred and eighty-four
undisputed electoral votes, he was still one short of
the necessary majority, and all that had to be done
was to see that he did not gain that one. With Repub-
licans in charge of the election machinery in Louisiana,
Florida and South Carolina, and a Republican
Secretary of War ready and willing to provide troops,
what could be more simple?

His plan approved, Reid sent telegrams to the
South at once, signing the name of the National Com-
mittee, in which he said : " Hayes is elected if we have
carried South Carolina, Florida and Louisiana. Can
you hold your state? Answer immediately. "

On the heels of this plain intimation that the three
states must be held, William E. Chandler was hurried
to Florida on the first train, carrying assurances of
money and troops, and this agent of the Republican
National Committee was soon followed by ex-Governor
Noyes, of Ohio, Hayes' campaign manager and most
intimate friend, together with General Lew Wallace.

To Louisiana raced Senator John Sherman, James
A. Garfield, William M. Evarts, John A. Dix and
Stanley Matthews, another personal representative of

[313]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

Hayes. As for South. Carolina, that situation was re-
garded as being well in hand, for the Eepublican
" carpetbag " governor was claiming the election, and
there were troops to support his claim.

The Florida result showed 24,441 votes for Tilden
and 24,350 votes for Hayes, and this seemed to be
final, for by a law that the "carpetbaggers" had
framed, the Canvassing Board was without power to
go behind the returns, its one function being to count
the vote. Secretary of War Cameron, however, or-
dered four companies of soldiers to Tallahassee, and
under this protection the Eepublican board invented
flimsy technicalities and threw out enough Democratic
votes to give Hayes a comfortable majority. A later
Congressional investigation proved that every man
connected with the count had been promised money
and jobs.

In Louisiana, however, the situation was far uglier
and more complicated, for political conditions in the
state had long been a scandal. Independent Eopubli-
cans, joining with the Democrats in 1872, had beaten
Kellogg, the "carpetbag" governor, only to have him
put in office under a court order issued by a drunken,
disreputable judge, and, following this high-handed
outrage, Q-eneral Sheridan's soldiers had used their
bayonets to disperse the legislature.

Congress had waxed furious at the time, and only
the year before, Evarts and G-arfield had attacked the
Louisiana mess in unmeasured terms, the latter brand-
ing Kellogg and his crew as a "reckless, graceless sot
of rascals."

Even without this background of corruption, the
Eepublican outlook was not conducive to confidence,
for Tilden >s majority in the state was seven thousand,
and at no point was there solid ground for attack, The

[314]

THE SCANDALS OF 1876

Returning Board was without power to reject the vote
of any precinct unless the certificate from that pre-
cinct was accompanied by the sworn protest of the
supervisors that intimidation had been used to pre-
vent a free and pure election, and only three such
protests were on file. As the supervisors were all
Republicans, the lack of affidavits alleging intimida-
tion could not be laid at the door of the Democrats.

No whit daunted by these obstacles, the " visiting
statesmen/' as Sherman, Gf-arfield, Evarts ei al. were
called, set to work with pious vim, calmly assuming
a dispute in every parish that gave the Democrats a
majority. As Sherman wrote to Hayes, "Our little
party is now dividing out the disputed parishes with
the view of a careful examination of every paper and
detail," and in every line the letter breathed a happy
confidence that large and helpful amounts of in-
tinidation would be found.

J. Madison Wells, chairman of the Eeturning
Board, had been arrested as a rogue by Sheridan him-
self, and the other three members one white and two
negroes were of the same stamp, but these facts did
not offend the " visiting statesmen. " The "reckless,
graceless set of rascals" were now clean, high-minded
citizens, and, although Evarts and Garfield had de-
nounced the Eeturning Board as an absolutely illegal
body just one year before, it was now hailed as a legal
body with unlimited powers.

Affidavits of intimidation soon began to pour in,
even the most forgetful supervisor suddenly remem-
bering instances of outrage on election day, and the
drama found its fitting conclusion in the testimony of
Eliza Pinkston, a negro bawd and murderess. Ap-
pearing before the "visiting statesmen," she told of
a husband butchered and mutilated, and how her little

[315]

80N8 OF THE EAGLE

baby had been killed by ruffianly whites even as she
shielded it in her arms. A year later a Congressional
committee was to prove the creature an infamous liar,
but her tale answered its purpose at the time.

By the day the last witness had been heard, more
than thirteen thousand Democratic votes were thrown
out, and the Eeturning Board, with the blessing of the
" visiting statesmen/' gave Louisiana's eight electoral
votes to Hayes, and declared Packard and Kellogg to
have been elected governor and senator respectively.

Straightway the Electoral College met in solemn
session, and after counting South Carolina, Florida
and Louisiana for Hayes, announced the vote to be
Hayes one hundred and eighty-five, Tilden one hun-
dred and eighty-four, and declared the former to have
been chosen president of the United States. The
Democrats, however, hotly disputed the three con-
tested states, and the eyes of the country turned upon
Congress, for it remained for the two Houses to count
the vote in joint session.

The Senate was Eepublican, the House Democratic,
and as there could not possibly be agreement, passion,
began to fill the air and partisans talked openly of
war. Nor was bitterness assuaged by the Republican
contention that the vice-president, a reliable party
man, had the right to count the votes and decide be-
tween contestants. A roar of rage went up from the
country, even Eepublicans joining the Democrats in
protest against any such arbitrary action, and at the
thought of fresh bloodshed, frightened statesmen got
together in search of a way out.

The result of deliberation was the creation of an
Electoral Commission with power to decide all
questions in dispute, and en January 31, 1877, in
accordance with the bill, these gentlemen were named:

[316]

TEE SCANDALS OF 1876

Senator Edmunds of Vermont, Senator Frelinglmysen
of New Jersey, and Senator Morton of Indiana, repre-
senting the Republicans, and Senator Thurman of
Ohio and Senator Bayard of Delaware, acting for the
Democrats; from the House, Garfield of Ohio and
Hoar of Massachusetts, for the Republicans, and
Abbott of Massachusetts, Payne of Ohio and Hunton
of Virginia, for the Democrats; from the Supreme
Court, Justice Miller of Iowa and Justice Strong of
Pennsylvania, Republicans ; Justice Clifford of Maine
and Justice Field of California, Democrats.

There was no question as to the extra-constitu-
tionality of the Electoral Commission, and Tilden
fought the proposition with might and main. As he
pointed out, no vote had a right to be counted except
by the concurrence of both Houses, and in event of
the failure of either candidate to obtain a majority,
the Constitution directed the House of Representa-
tives to elect the president, and the Senate to elect the
vice-president. This was the course that he desired
to have followed, but the southern Democrats were in
no mood for another war, and it was also their con-
fident expectation that the disputed returns would re-
ceive a fair, non-partisan consideration.

A fifth justice was to be selected by the four named
in the bill, and there was agreement that this fifteenth
member of the Commission, virtually an umpire, would
be Justice David Davis, of Illinois, an Independent
and a man widely respected for his courage and
honesty. On the very eve of his appointment, however,
word came that Republicans and Democrats had joined
in Illinois to defeat John A. Logan for the Senate, and
that their choice had fallen on Davis. As a con-
sequence, the four justices named Justice Bradley, of
New Jersey, a rock-ribbed Republican.

[317]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

The case of Florida, first to be reached, sounded
the death knell of Democratic hopes. The issue was
joined at once, Democrats contending for the right to
show gross fraud, the Republicans insisting that the
Commission had no authority to go behind the returns.
The vote stood seven to seven, and Justice Bradley,
going with his party, made it eight to seven. The
decision went back to Congress, where the Senate
affirmed and the House rejected, but as both had to
concur to overturn the finding, the judgment stood.

The second adjudication was in connection with
Humphrey, a Florida elector, whose disqualification
was claimed by the Democrats on the ground that he
was a Federal office holder. Here the Commission
ruled, by the same eight to seven vote, that evidence
could be taken to prove that Humphrey was not a
Federal office holder "on the day" when the electors
were appointed, and as a result of this ruling, the
four votes of Florida were given to Hayes.

In the Louisiana case, it was again held that evi-
dence of fraud and forgery could not be heard, and
then the Democrats brought forward the charge that
two of the Eepublican electors were disqualified by the
Constitution of the United States, and four others by
the Constitution of Louisiana. In the Humphrey
matter, the Commission had ruled that evidence could
be accepted to prove that he was not ineligible, and
with this precedent to go upon, the Democrats were
jubilant, for they possessed plain proofs of the in-
eligibility of the six Louisiana electors.

Now reversing itself, however, the Commission
decided by the regular vote of eight to seven "that it
is not competent to prove that any of said persons so
appointed electors as aforesaid, held an office of trust
or profit under the United States at the timo when they

[318]

THE SCANDALS OF 1876

were appointed, or that they were ineligible tinder the
laws of the state."

The eight votes of Louisiana were then given to
Hayes, also the seven votes of South Carolina and a
disputed vote in Oregon, for while Tilden needed only
a single vote, it was necessary for Hayes to win every
one of the twenty in dispute. Each decision, as it was
referred back to Congress, met with the same fate, the
House repudiating and the Senate confirming, and
each day saw the unhappy country coming closer to
anarchy and bloodshed.

From Maine to California the states rocked to the
derisive cry of "Eight to seven, " and it was con-
fidently expected that the Democratic House would
initiate a filibuster on receipt of the final count, delay-
ing action until March fourth, when Congress expired
by limitation. With no president elected, and chaos
precipitated, anything might happen.

Strangely enough, it was the Democratic leaders
of the South who found most alarm in such a prospect.
Chaos might be well enough for politicians, but it
meant only new woe for those states that lay in
poverty and bondage by reason of their devotion to
a Lost Cause. What the South needed, and needed
imperatively, was peace peace and relief from op-
pression. Shrewd men, they saw that Tilden could
not be seated except by force of arms, and turning
away from this impossibility, they addressed them-
selves to the search for some solution in which profit
might be found.

On February twenty-sixth, as the Electoral Com-
mission was nearing the end of its "eight-to-seven"
labors, conversations commenced between certain
southern leaders and Eepublicans directly representa-
tive of the Hayes group. As a consequence, Senator

[319]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

John B. Gordon and Bepresentative John Young
Brown were given a letter, signed by Congressman
Charles Foster of Ohio, and Stanley Matthews, one of
Hayes' closest friends, in which they gave the
southerners their personal assurance that Hayes
"will give to the people of the states of South Carolina
and Louisiana the right to control their own affairs in
their own way."

That very evening a conference was held in Worm-
ley's hotel, and Mr. Foster and Mr. Matthews, sup-
ported by Senator Sherman, Eepresentative Garfield
and various others, renewed the assurances of their
conviction that Mr. Hayes would " favor local self-
government and home rule in the South/' As the
direct result of these conversations, the southern
Democrats in the House stood like iron against fili-
bustering, and when the Electoral Commission
announced its decision on the morning of March
second, forced acceptance of the decision.

While greeting the peaceful outcome with a sigh, of
relief, the country as a whole evinced no large amount
of pleasure or pride, nor was the critical spirit
softened by the open manner in which the new Presi-
dent rewarded those who had figured most largely in
the carrying of the disputed states. Evarts was made
Secretary of State, Noyes went as Ambassador to
France, Matthews was nominated to the Supreme
Bench, and Sherman, appointed Secretary of the
Treasury, lost no time in distributing some forty-seven
jobs among the members and relatives of tho
Louisiana and Florida election boards.

Those obligations discharged, Hayes turned his
eyes to the South. The appointment to the office of
Postmaster General of David M* Koy of Tennessee
a man who had fought in the Confederate Army~liad

[320]

TEE SCANDALS OF 1876

given plain indication of his policy, and the "Bloody
Shirt Brigade" in Congress, led by Blaine and
Cameron, began to voice ugly opposition. The object
of their concern was the continuance of Republican
control in Louisiana and South Carolina where United
States troops still supported " carpetbag " govern-
ments repudiated by the people.

In South Carolina, one Chamberlain sat in the
governor's chair, supported by bayonets, but it was
a mere pretense at rule, for the people of the state
refused to recognize his claim, and gave full allegiance
to "Wade Hampton and his Democratic legislature. A
similar situation existed in Louisiana, where Packard,
the " carpetbag " governor, locked himself in the old
St. Louis Hotel, and watched the people pay taxes and
recognize the authorities of Nichols, the Democratic
Governor.

The two Eepublican governments represented the
last stand of "earpetbaggism," the evil thing that had
cursed the South for ten long years, arousing more
hate and bitterness than had been stirred by the war
itself. If Chamberlain and Packard were to be recog-
nized, if troops continued to hold them in office against
the wishes of the people, it meant a prolongation and
deepening of the sullen angers that blocked peace and
unity. On the other hand, failure to recognize the two
" carpetbaggers " would be accepted as a confirmation
of the charge that Tilden had been cheated out of the
election, for if Chamberlain and Packard had not been
elected legally, neither had the electors that gave vic-
tory to Hayes.

It was in this moment of tremendous decision that
Butherford Birchard Hayes justified his selection by
the destiny that presides over America.

He knew that he could repudiate the personal

[321]

SONS OF THE EAGLE

assurances that his friends had given the southerners,
just as he knew that the removal of troops from the
southern states would bring down upon his head tb,e
rage of the Republican party leaders, but he did not
hesitate. With a courage and patriotism that lifted
him to greatness, he ordered Federal soldiers out of
South Carolina and Louisiana, and as they marched
away, Chamberlain and Packard followed dismally,
marking the end of "carpetbaggism."

It was as Hayes had foreseen. The " radicals, "
led by Elaine, Garrison, Phillips and "Wade, poured
their hate upon him, and although his administration
was fine and clean and splendid, the politicians refused
him renomination in 1880, and cast him into darkness
as a traitor and a failure. As he sat in retirement,
however, a glow of happiness must have warmed his
heart, for the country that he looked out upon was
now whole, its wounds healed, its hates forgotten.

THE EBTD